


Protect me from what I want

by ffairyy



Category: GOT7
Genre: Bodyguard!Yugyeom, Jinyoung gets bullied, M/M, a bit of fluff in there, a bit of smut in there, a lil bit of angst in there, and there's plants okay, lot's of unecessary music references, rich kid Jinyoung, there's a cute abandoned house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-06-09 22:00:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6925069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffairyy/pseuds/ffairyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I want to protect you, sir," Yugyeom said.</p><p>"I told you not to call me that," Jinyoung sighed, "and I don't need protection."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ONE

**Author's Note:**

> So this was just a drabble I started writing when I needed to break through a writer's block, but it somehow got pretty long?!  
> Oh and the title is a placebo song because I'm really uncreative D:
> 
>  **Warning:** this whole story is the biggest cliché in the history of fanfiction and I'm sorry. Also there's some intoxicated kissing, violence and homophobic language!

 

 

_> He wore ripped jeans and a black shirt, his hair a fading red, turning light brown, like a mediocre watercolor painting of autumn leaves.<_

 

 

Jinyoung was 22 years old and he definitely didn’t need someone to protect him.

But when his parents decided to hire a bodyguard to ensure his safety and to be there when they weren’t, they barely listened to his arguments.  
  
His mother was a beautiful woman, a successful actress and independent all her life.  
The reason he could buy everything he wanted was her hard work.  
To keep it that way, she was travelling the world and working with the biggest directors of every country, taking on roles and walking red carpets and sometimes Jinyoung watched her movie premieres on TV.  
 It was like watching a stranger, a beautiful, admirable one, a different fancy dress every time and a matching fake smile.  
No matter how Jinyoung looked at her, no matter which one she picked out of her huge collection of fake smiles, she never looked like his mother.  
Sometimes Jinyoung wasn’t sure if she still was.  
  
The villa he lived in was already huge, but it seemed so much bigger when it was this empty. Jinyoung and his father shared those wide halls with three maids and a gardener and because his father was a generous man, everyone had their own room.  
Maybe he just hated the empty halls as much as Jinyoung did.  
  
Jinyoung cringed every time he called out for a maid of for his dad and his voice resounded from the wide rooms and bounced off the high ceilings.  
He had made it a habit to call the phone in his father’s office instead of walking all the way down the stairs and through empty hallways.

He could’ve moved out like his brother Jaebum had, into the centre of the city and into his own little apartment.  
It wasn't like he didn't have enough money, but he’d get lonely, get sad and overwhelmed by responsibilities.  
He wanted to stay until he finished school.  
  
Jinyoung went to a public college. His mother’s idea.  
_“He needs to have a chance to be a normal kid.”_  
It could have been a great idea really.  
Theoretically.  
He could have made friends and he could have brought them home and maybe his huge room with the high ceiling wouldn’t have been dead silent all the time. He wouldn’t have to drown himself and his huge four walls in music, if there were other people to talk to.  
 He could have thrown birthday parties and he could have started a study group.  
  
But fact was that nobody really liked rich people. Some like what rich people have, but nobody was really good at hiding what they wanted and Jinyoung’s senses tingled whenever somebody was remotely nice to him.  
It had been like that all his life and while he didn’t dare to complain, he started sweating when he just thought about school.  
  
Some days he stood in front of the mirror and looked at himself.  
What if it wasn’t about not liking rich people?  
What if people just didn’t like _him_?  
Thinking about that always made his chest feel tight and then he couldn’t look into the mirror any longer, so he tried not to think about it.  
  
He had one friend though, a friend that he shouldn’t take for granted, but did, because he had been there all his life.  Mark wasn’t just a friend; he was like his other half.  
 If Mark would go to his college, he would have had one person to spend his lunchtimes with.

  
Mark sat on his bed and played games on Jinyoung’s DS. He hummed along to the melody of the game. Jinyoung sighed dramatically over his math homework, then he turned around on his chair.  
  
“I’m getting a bodyguard,” He sighed.  
  
“What?” Mark looked up from his game for a second. “Because of these stupid kids the other day?”  
  
“Yeah,” Jinyoung huffed “My dad thinks I’m getting bullied.”  
  
“You _are_ getting bullied, Jin,” Mark said, “They literally wanted to climb through your window.”  
  
“I know these losers,” he stood up and went to the window, “they wouldn’t actually do something like that.”  
  
He opened the window and lit a cigarette. If his father knew he was smoking in the house, he could prepare for a lecture and “do you know how expensive these curtains are?”  
He made sure to blow the smoke into the wind instead.

-

It was a few days later, when Jinyoung should meet his bodyguard.  
He came back home from school, another day of not talking to people and not getting talked to and lashing out at people who even dared to try. Another long day of eating lunch alone and writing down everything his teachers said, just so he didn’t have to look up from his desk to look at any of his classmates.  
One of the maids opened the door and took his jacket. He had told her a thousand times that she didn’t need to do that. That he had hands and that “you’re not my slave, Mary, you’re like my big sister!”  
  
His father called him into his office, before he could disappear into his room.  
Jinyoung cussed on his way down the hallway.

  
“What?” he huffed, after he had opened the big door.  
  
His father sat behind his black, wooden desk, a bunch of paper work piled up on it, a huge wall filled with bookshelves behind him and dark red curtains that looked more depressed than Jinyoung felt during lunchtime in school.  
  
In front of his desk stood a young man.  A friendly smile on his face, slightly red cheeks and taller than Jinyoung or his dad.  
He wore ripped jeans and a black shirt, his hair a fading red, turning light brown, like a mediocre watercolor painting of autumn leaves.  
  
“Who is that?” Jinyoung said, without greeting the stranger.  
  
“This is the bodyguard we talked about.” His father explained.  
  
“We did not talk about this.” Jinyoung hissed, “You just decided it.”  
There was already a lump in his throat, ready to explode. He clenched his teeth.  
“And I said I don’t need a bodyguard, because I’m not in danger!”  
  
“It’s not you who decides if you’re in danger, Jinyoung.” His father’s voice was calm. “Your mother is a well known woman and you are a potential object for blackmail and I think we can all do without more family drama.”  
  
“Nobody cares.” Jinyoung huffed, “This isn’t about me getting abducted…” Jinyoung stopped himself, looking at the stranger, who looked awkward and acted busy, playing with a pencil in his hand.  
He did not need that guy knowing about rude kids or broken windows.  
  
Jinyoung took a deep breath to keep the lump from exploding and to keep his stomach from turning. His life was already a pain in the ass, he didn’t need some random pretty boy reminding him of that.  
  
“You, “ he hissed, “What’s your name?”  
  
“Yugyeom, sir.”  
  
“Are you even 19 yet?”  
  
“I am, sir.”  
  
“Okay, listen,” Jinyoung stared at the boy and ignored his father, who acted busy with his paper work, “You will bring me to school and you will pick me up. You will not be clinging to me like a lap dog! Is he gonna live here?”  
He looked at his father again.  
  
“I prepared the room on the first floor, next to the trophy-room.”

“Fuck, is this really necessary?” Jinyoung whined a little.  
  
“Watch your language, Jinyoung.” His father’s voice was still calm, there was even a hint of a smile on his face.  
“I want you to show him around,” he added, “And…be nice.”

Jinyoung wasn’t exactly in the mood to be nice and it wasn’t in his nature to do what his father told him to.

As soon as they left his father’s office, Yugyeom followed his steps. Until Jinyoung turned around and let the boy nearly walk into him.  
  
“You know where your room is,” he mumbled,  “ask me if you need anything else.”  
He turned around and walked up the stairs to his own room, where he closed the door just a little bit noisier than necessary.  
  
-  
  
As much as Jinyoung had whined about the house being so empty, having another person live on the first floor with him was annoying.  
Yugyeom ate breakfast with them, even though he sat at the table with the maids and the gardener. Even though he didn’t talk a lot, he definitely had a presence.  
 When the maids talked to him, he smiled and laughed a lot, his eyes turning to little half moon sickles when he did.  
He was annoyingly attentive, was the first to pick something up when another person dropped it and was the last to reach for the food when it was on the table in front of him and Jinyoung wondered why someone like him decided to be a bodyguard in the first place.  
 He could be a florist or a baker at best, not someone to actually protect another person.  
  
When the weekend was over and Jinyoung prepared for a long week in college, he got ready in his en suite.  
He forced himself into too skinny blue jeans and a plaid shirt, sneakers that looked worn off, even though he had six pair of clean ones waiting in his walk in closet.  
His homework was done, the extra work too and he had studied everything that could be studied.  
When he opened the door to his room, he ran into Yugyeom.  
  
“How long have you been standing here?” he asked, while he walked by him.  
  
“Twenty minutes, sir.”  
  
Jinyoung rolled his eyes.  
Great.  
  
“I told you not to be a lap dog!”  
  
“I’m sorry, sir, it’s how I was taught to do it.”  
  
Fair enough.  
  
  
Jinyoung yelled a goodbye into the house and the walls threw his echo back. His father wished him a good day. Whatever.  
  
Years ago Jinyoung had decided he would never want to be driven to school by car. It would just add to his strange reputation and to people talking.  
Walking with Yugyeom by his side made him reconsider all of his life choices.  
  
“Why aren’t you going to school?”He asked, without looking at the tall boy beside him.  
  
“I dropped out,“ Yugyeom said, „wasn’t good in school. Didn’t make money.”  
  
“Money isn’t everything, kid.” Jinyoung sighed.  
  
“That’s because you have it, sir.” Yugyeom mumbled. Jinyoung threw him a sharp glance and the boy looked down,  
 “I’m sorry, sir.”  
  
They walked in silence for a moment. Yugyeom’s words sounding in Jinyoung’s head like his goodbyes had sounded through the villa.  
He wasn’t stupid, that boy.  
  
“Then where did you live before?” he didn’t look at him while he talked.  
  
“With a friend… I left home a few months ago…”  
  
Jinyoung nodded and another silence spread between them. Of course Yugyeom would have friends. Everyone had friends.  
  
“I saw your posters, sir,” Yugyeom then said, “I didn’t think you’d be a rock fan.”  
  
“And I didn’t think you’d be that noisy,” Jinyoung countered, but there was an itch in his mind, that made it hard to keep quiet.  
“You like my bands?”  
  
“I saw a placebo poster… I like them.”  
  
“You’ve got good taste, kid,” Jinyoung looked over to him for the first time.  
Yugyeom wore the same black skinny jeans again, but a different shirt.  
A red one, much brighter than the washed out red in his hair.  
 And a black leather jacket, just a little short on the arms.  
He looked like he escaped out of an 80s road movie. Maybe just a modern punk pop band.  
  
„Who else do you like?“  
  
„I can show you my music after school, if you want to.“ Yugyeom grinned.  
  
Jinyoung didn’t answer and just kicked an empty plastic bottle out of the way.  
They walked the rest of the way in silence and Jinyoung resisted the urge to ask if Yugyeom liked the Hives, too, or Depeche Mode or The Romantics, so he clenched his teeth instead.  
  
When they arrived at the end of the street, he told Yugyeom to go back. He really didn’t want him to walk him to the school door, looking like a mother who dropped off his little kid.  
  
 “My last class ends at 2 pm.” He said.  
  
“I know your schedule, sir.” Yugyeom smiled.  
  
Jinyoung really didn’t know if he should be impressed or creeped out.  
He wasn’t used to people knowing anything about him, really.

-

It was three days later when Jinyoung sat on his bed, his music loud, the bass vibrating in his bones and he stared at the ceiling.  
The amount of posters and pictures on his walls made a great contrast to the expensive huge bed and the heavy curtains and his working desk made out of mahogany.  
He wouldn’t be able to stay a single night in this room, if it wasn’t for his posters and the cut outs of lyrics and quotes around his desk.  
  
He chewed gum and thought back on the day.  
One of the kids that never dared to talk to him, but enjoyed talking about him, made a comment about how he saw Jinyoung getting picked up by his lover after school.  
Then Jae heard of it and Jae always found a way to blow things out of proportions.  
  
Jinyoung knew Yugyeom would mean trouble for him sooner or later.  
He could do without people spreading rumors again.

So when a knock on his door tore him out of his thoughts he was already irritated and it didn’t help that he had to turn down his music to be able to talk.  
  
“What?” he hissed.  
  
“Excuse me, sir.” Yugyeom put his head through the door crack, “is that Volbeat you’re listening to?”  
  
Jinyoung wanted to tell him to fuck off and mind his own business. Wanted to tell him not to talk to him when he didn’t have to and not to be a noisy little shit.  
He hated that every pore in his body got excited, when he sat up on his bed.  
  
“Don’t tell me you like Volbeat?!”

 

It was about an hour later that they sat on the floor together, in front of his bed on the wide fluffy carpet and went through Jinyoung’s CD and Vinyl collection.  
  
“I’ve seen them live.” Yugyeom grinned, when he pointed at a dirty album cover with a crack in the plastic.  
  
“You’ve seen Bad Religion live?” Jinyoung looked at the boy in disbelief.  
  
“Yeah, they were in town three years ago and Bambam dragged me there,” he rambled, “didn’t even know them back then!”  
  
“You little shit…” Jinyoung huffed, “I would’ve chopped off an arm to see them, but I was in Europe when they came.”  
  
“Europe?”  
  
“Yeah, my mother had a premiere and we used to actually fly there when I was younger.”

“Are you proud of her?” Yugyeom’s voice got quieter and way too soft for Jinyoung’s liking.  A weird rumbling went through his stomach.  
 A little lump in his throat made it harder to speak.  
  
“Don’t ask shit like that.” He brought out.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Yugyeom mumbled and Jinyoung’s shoulders relaxed a little.  
 He sighed.  
  
“Who else have you seen live?”  
  
“Not many … concerts are so expensive,” he whined, “but sometimes I save the money.”  
  
They sat there a little longer and at some point they both stood at the huge windowsill and Jinyoung looked at him confused when the boy asked for a cigarette.  
  
“If you get the carpet dirty, I’ll kill you.”  
  
“Understood, sir.” Yugyeom grinned.  
  
Jinyoung felt a weird tingling sensation in his stomach.  
His facial muscles tried to form a smile, but he forbad them to.


	2. TWO

_> It was a place where Jinyoung remembered that he was alive and breathing and that maybe that wasn’t so bad after all.<_

 

 

“Don’t come all the way to the building when you pick me up!” Jinyoung said, looking around hectically, even though they were two streets away from his school, “people are already talking.”

“Your friends, sir?”

“Everyone,” Jinyoung said.

“What are they talking?” Yugyeom’s voice was calm and Jinyoung stopped looking around.

“Some asshole thinks you’re my lover,” he hissed.

“Is that so bad, sir?”  
Jinyoung looked the boy up and down. His shoes dirty, his jeans ripped, the leather jacket would maybe look badass if the sleeves weren’t way too short. His black roots already growing out.

“Of course that’s bad,” Jinyoung brought out. “Wait here, when you pick me up!”

“But your father said…”

“Do you want to get me in trouble, kid?” Jinyoung hissed.

“No, sir.”

“Then be here at 3pm.”

“Okay, sir.”

-

They found a routine that worked for them.  
Yugyeom only walked half the way to school with Jinyoung and the rumors about his mysterious lover got less.  
People went back to talking about Jinyoung’s mother and his money and his excessively good grades.  
Even when they weren’t talking about him, Jinyoung heard their voices sounding through his skull and whenever some of his classmates started laughing, it was like he was the joke that was so funny.

The teachers liked him, which didn’t make the students like him more. He knew his father was a major sponsor for school related activities.  
But Jinyoung was used to it.  
It was on a Thursday in sociology, when the professor didn’t appear and little groups of students had built. Jinyoung sat at his desk alone and the room felt suffocating, small, the air thin, even more so than usually.  
He tried to concentrate on the book in his hand, when a few of the others started whispering.

When a girl said “I heard his mother has a sex scene in her new movie” she didn’t think he was listening.  
But he was and his stomach twisted at the sound of her words. He stared at the back of her head.

“What a slut,” a boy said and let his tongue click in disgust. It was Jae.

Jinyoung choked up, his blood was boiling again and he clenched his fists so hard, his knuckles turned white.  
The laughing in his skull got louder, tormenting and he wasn’t sure if it was only there or if it was taking over his whole body now.  
He felt the tears swelling up behind his eyes and that was the moment he knew he had to get out of there, before he managed to multiply his problems with a single fist into Jae’s face.  
Instead he took his bag and rushed by their row and out of the classroom.  
Someone said “oh shit” and then they started laughing so loud that Jinyoung could still hear it, when he had run down the hallway.

Their laugh still sounded in his head, when he walked out of the school in a smart pace. One or two tears sneaked out of his eyes and he wiped them away with his sleeves.  
Pathetic.

Instead of going home, he walked to a little park nearby the school. He was pretty much alone, everyone was working or at school, so he sat down on a little playground and stared at the swings. It was a colorful place, a palette of greens and reds and yellows and the sunlight making everything shine a bit brighter.  
The sick feeling in his stomach got worse, when he thought about his mother and when he thought about ever going back into that classroom, where it was so difficult to get air into his lungs. He wanted to vanish, wanted the lump in his throat to choke him completely.  
He still had two hours until his school day officially ended. Enough time to buy a beer at the next kiosk.  
Or maybe two.  
In the bright yellow of the noon.

-  
He wasn’t drunk, but a bit tipsy and tired and the alcohol definitely didn’t help his sickness.  
The music coming through his headphones was so loud that it was about to bust his eardrums any moment, so he wouldn’t have noticed the incoming call, if it wasn’t for a vibrating in his jeans.

Yugyeom’s name lit up on the phone like it was mocking him.

“What?” he sighed.

“Where are you, sir?”

“Go back home,” he said, “I’m coming later.”

“Where are you?” Yugyeom repeated.

“I’m at a park,” Jinyoung’s words sounded just a little bit unsteady. “Tell my father I’m with Mark.”

“But….”

“Do what I say.” He ended the call.  
So pathetic.

 

He lit a cigarette and put his headphones back on.  
It was barely ten minutes until his pretended peace got interrupted again.

He groaned, when he saw Yugyeom walking towards him over the lawn and Jinyoung imagined him carefully stepping around the scattered wildflowers which were like little sprinkles of paint on the big lawn.  
Why could that idiot not follow his orders?

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jinyoung hissed.  
Yugyeom walked the last few steps and stopped in front of him. He looked down on the empty bottles and then back into Jinyoung’s face.

“I was worried, sir.” Yugyeom sat down beside him on the bench.“You didn’t sound good.”

“I’m fine.”

“But you lied, you’re not with Mark.”

Jinyoung looked away.  
“And you didn’t listen to me,” he said.

“You’re not my boss, y’know,” Yugyeom mumbled, “Your father is my boss.”

“So you don’t respect me,” Jinyoung concluded.

“I do,” he said in a rush, “listen… I know you don’t like me, but this is my job. If something happens to you, it’s my fault.”

“It’s not that I-”

“Plus I really hate seeing you like this,” Yugyeom interrupted him. His hands waved over the empty bottles of beer.

Jinyoung wanted to ask him why, but he didn’t get a word out. Wanted to tell Yugyeom that he didn’t hate him, but he wasn’t sure what that would mean.  
Not hating people was so dangerous; it was like standing at the edge of a cliff with blindfolds over his eyes, depending on the mercy of whoever stood behind him.

So he just stared at Yugyeom’s side profile, trying to figure out if Yugyeom could possibly push him off that cliff, but Yugyeom just stared down at his feet and his face didn’t tell Jinyoung a single thing.

-

Mark and Jinyoung had just come upstairs from lunch with his father ten minutes ago.  
Yugyeom had left after lunch to meet up with a bunch of friends on the weekend and Jinyoung wondered what kind of people they were. He really wanted to ask, but something in his body told him not to. He shouldn’t care in the first place.

Mark was splayed out on Jinyoung’s bed, a lollipop in his mouth and somehow he had found the only comic book that Jinyoung owned and flipped through the pages.  
It was a Peanuts comic, the first ever edition and it was all in color.  
He chuckled now and then and it was nearly annoying whenever he called Jinyoung over from his schoolwork to show him another comic strip, because of course he knew them all.  
It was his comic book.

“I like him,” Mark announced.

“Who… snoopy?” Jinyoung mumbled, while he tried to read the same sentence on his paper for the third time.

“No. Yugyeom,” Mark said. “He’s nice and he cares for you.”

“What?” Jinyoung looked up from his work and over to Mark.

“I said he cares for you.”

“It’s literally his job to care for me,” Jinyoung said.

“That’s not what I mean,” Mark sighed, “he likes you…as a person.”

“Bullshit,” Jinyoung spit out and turned his back on Mark again.

“Y’know there is good in people…,” Mark said and his voice was quiet and unusually serious, “I know there’s assholes in your school, but-“

“They can’t hurt me…”

“Oh come on Jinyoungie, that shit would hurt anyone,” Mark said, “they’re assholes. What I’m saying is that not everyone is like them.”

“How the fuck would I know?”

“What about me, then?” Mark asked and he sat up, putting the comic aside, “I’ve never hurt you on purpose, have I? I don’t give a single shit about your money, Jinyoung, I’m not your friend because I’ve always been. I just like spending time with you.”

“I know.”

“And you’re my best friend, and you’re a great person if you’re not busy acting like you’re not.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jinyoung huffed.

“You’re such an actor sometimes,” Mark said.  
As if that explained anything.  
Jinyoung didn’t feel like concentrating on his studying anymore. He could read through those papers for the rest of the day and they wouldn’t answer his questions.

Why would Mark like him?  
Why would Yugyeom like him?  
Why would he be anything to them other than a job?

-

If you had told Jinyoung that he would one day skip classes to spend afternoons in the park or in little cafés, mostly with Yugyeom, sometimes without him, he would have laughed at you. But as much as he wanted to keep up his good grades, he really did everything to avoid the people at school and those suffocating classrooms.

He sat in the park with Yugyeom and they had little speakers with them and listened to Jinyoung’s music. It was already late afternoon, the sun having her final showdown somewhere in the sky, the wind getting ready for a long night.  
They had been there for hours already and they didn’t talk much, unless a band or song basically forced them to.  
But at some point Yugyeom let out a long sigh.

“Sir…,” he whined, stretching the word forever, “can we go somewhere else?”

“I told you not to call me that anymore,” Jinyoung sighed, but Yugyeom ignored him.

“We’re always here, let’s go somewhere else.” Then his eyes lit up. “I want to show you something.”

“But I like it here,” Jinyoung argued.

“Pleaaaase, I promise you’re gonna like it,” he tugged on Jinyoung’s sleeve and Jinyoung felt a bit of warmth spread through his chest. He gently pulled his arm away from him. “It’s one of my favorite places on earth!”

Jinyoung looked at Yugyeom and at his fading red hair dancing with the wind and there was this spark in his eyes and his cheeks were puffed up in a smile and he leant forward like a puppy that expected a treat.  
If he had a tail, he’d wiggle it.

“Jesus Christ…,” Jinyoung breathed out. “Okay.”

 

Excitement was streaming out of every of Yugyeom’s pores and it was a little bit stressful, but also contagious.  
They had driven several stations, out of the centre of the city and Jinyoung felt a bit out of place in that tram. He wasn’t used to sit with strangers, wasn’t used to dirty glasses and old gum on the floor, so he watched Yugyeom, whose head was turned to the window and his eyes desperately tried to find a spot to concentrate on, but the houses and streets flew by them and Jinyoung caught himself smiling at that view.

As soon as they had reached their station and were outside again, Yugyeom led the way and it was weird for Jinyoung to follow him through the unfamiliar streets.  
He had never been in this part of the city and he had trouble keeping up with the huge steps Yugyeom made.

“Nearly there.” He grinned, when Jinyoung groaned behind him.  
“Getting abducted by my own bodyguard…,” Jinyoung mumbled and Yugyeom laughed with all his heart.

They walked towards the end of a small street with little family houses and front gardens and the clouds blocked the setting sun, so the air was getting cooler and there was nobody around.

A small, fenced-in piece of land came to sight.  
Rampant plants and trees making It look messy and neglected, the fence had holes and was broken down completely at a few points. Behind a bunch of trees there was an old house, obviously abandoned a long time ago, probably more than ten years. It had something mystic about it, as if they better shouldn’t destroy the peace in that little place. As if they’d piss of the gods of nature if they crossed that line.

“We’re not going to that place, are we?”

“Exactly,” Yugyeom chuckled.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“You’re gonna like it, sir.”

Yugyeom heaved his huge body through one of the holes in the fence and he lent Jinyoung a hand to help him through it. Jinyoung could feel his strength, when he wrapped his hand around his wrist and he steadied him, until Jinyoung was on the other side of the fence.  
Still not sure what he was doing.  
Or why he wasn’t at home, studying and enjoying a hot cup of tea.  
The grass and weeds reached up to his thighs and there was a beaten path that led right to the house, stomped down by the rude feet of people who didn’t fear the gods’ revenge.

“Bambam and I discovered this place when we were younger,” Yugyeom told him.

Jinyoung nodded. His heart was beating a little faster, when he realized that he was still holding his hand. He pulled it away quickly, but his heart kept racing.

Yugyeom took the lead again until they stood in front of the small ruin. There was moss on the old walls and Jinyoung wondered how many animals lived a calm and grateful life on this piece of land.

They had to walk to the side of the house to see the hole, where a door must have been ages ago.  
When Jinyoung walked in, he let out a surprised noise.  
He didn’t know what he had expected but it wasn’t that.

There was a colorful couch in the middle of the small four walls, old and worn off, one or two different- patterned patches holding the fabric together.  
And there were plants.  
Not only the ones that tried to take the house back to nature and the ones that grew rank through the window holes and even the few strong ones that already broke through the ground, but potted plants as well.  
Succulents, cacti and a few other greens, even one or two potted flowers.  
There was water dribbling down from an improvised frame on the ceiling.

“Jackson and Bambam built this thing,” Yugyeom grinned proudly, “for when we can’t come to water them.”

There was also every kind of trash, made into basic furniture. Two stacked clementine-boxes that served as a desk and beer and juices by the box in a corner. One or two stronger beverages.  
The cheapest of everything.

“Not bad,” Jinyoung brought out.

“Right?” Yugyeom smiled. “When the weather is nice, we go outside.”

Jinyoung followed him over to one of the holes in the cement and looked outside. There were multiple huge rocks placed in a circle and in the middle a bunch of burnt down wood and branches.  
Jinyoung felt his stomach turn at the thought of Yugyeom sitting there with his friends, drinking and laughing with them and a fire in the middle of their little circle.  
Maybe even sausages or marshmallows.

He got torn out of his thoughts, when Yugyeom took the speakers out of Jinyoung’s bag without asking.

“Let’s listen to my music for a change.” He grinned and after a moment of scrolling, the first few chords of a Ramones song started sounding through the brittle walls.

-

The abandoned house became a thing, too.  
It was a place where Jinyoung remembered that he was alive and breathing and that maybe that wasn’t so bad after all. A place where colors were a little more vivid and sounds a little less violent and also a place that made Jae and college and all his family problems seem small and insignificant.  
Whenever he thought about his problems while in the ruin, he could breathe and let the thoughts go again, just the way they came, the wind just carried them away from the little house.  
The plants and birds and the whole house understood him and accepted him the way he was and for the first time in Jinyoung’s life he fell deeply in love with a place.

Spending his time there with Yugyeom, made skipping classes even more tempting and Jinyoung agreed coming by more often, if he could study there.

Even though Yugyeom had thrown judging glances at him, Jinyoung had done his homework on the little colorful couch, his books spread out on the clementine-box.  
“If Jackson knew this place was abused like this…” Yugyeom had shaken his head in disbelief.

 

When he was done it was already getting dark outside, but it was alright.  
A Friday evening and no school the next day. They had a flashlight, but they didn’t use it, because the plants looked peaceful, painted in dark green colors and glowing in a touch of moonlight, that sneaked in through the windows without glass.

Yugyeom opened the second bottle of beer for himself and Jinyoung skipped through the alternatives in their little storage.  
He nearly shrieked when a spider crawled over one of the bottles, but then he took a deep breath and reached out for a bottle of whiskey and another bottle of cola.

“Yah, sir,” Yugyeom slurred, “What do you wanna listen to?”

“You can choose,” he said, before he let himself sink into the couch beside him.

“Nice,” Yugyeom reached for his own music player, “How about RnB for a change…I listened to that in my dance school.”

“You’re dancing?” Jinyoung looked at him.

“Used to,” he sighed. “It’s really expensive and y’know I’m already working two jobs.”

“Two?” Jinyoung asked.

“Yeah, I took on a part-time job in a supermarket,” he said.

“My father pays you well, though.”

“Sure… But I need to save a bit.”

Jinyoung wanted to ask about his parents, ask why a nineteen year old worked as a bodyguard and didn’t live at home, if he had no money. Wanted to know what he saved the money for. Wanted to know so many things.  
But it felt like it would destroy their idyllic peace in that little house if he asked. Like it would wake up the ghosts that slept in the old walls and god knows how many of them there were.  
He didn’t even really want to hear the answers.

Yugyeom had found the music he was searching for and slow RnB sounds filled the ruin. The wind blew mercilessly through the window and door holes that day and Jinyoung wrapped his jacket closer around his shoulders. When he took a first sip of the whiskey-coke he had mixed, a warm feeling spread in his stomach.

Yugyeom was dancing, his eyes closed, his limps seemingly moving on their own, fitting the music as if he had done it many times, but the few edgy and unfitting steps told Jinyoung that he was improvising.  
He watched him closely, watched him loose himself in the music and he swore Yugyeom transformed in front of his eyes. The light followed its own little choreography on his moving body, flew over his closed eyes and his smile and his soft red hair.  
His whole being changed and became so independent from Jinyoung or the little ruin.  
Maybe independent from their world, really.  
He looked like he wasn’t bound to human rules anymore, maybe not even bound to gravity.

Jinyoung’s heart was racing; he couldn’t force himself to look away. If Yugyeom chose to dance forever, Jinyoung would have to watch him forever.  
His bag with the paperwork lay abandoned on the floor and the more of his healing drink he swallowed, the warmer he felt.

Yugyeom snapped out of his trance at some point and when he came back to the couch, his eyes fell on Jinyoung’s arms around himself.

“Do you need a blanket? We have one here… it’s a bit dirty though,” he said.

“No it’s alright,” Jinyoung breathed, “the booze helps.”

“Did you like it?” Yugyeom wanted to know, when he let himself sink into the couch on Jinyoung’s side. He changed the music.  
Placebo again.

“You’re really good,” Jinyoung said, “even though it’s not my music.”

“Thankyouverymuch sir.” Yugyeom grinned.  
They didn’t talk for a while, just listened to the music and Yugyeom sang along with one or two lines, the alcohol became one with Jinyoung’s blood and when he tried to stand on wobbly feet to search for the blanket, Yugyeom chuckled.

“It’s over there,” he pointed to a huge wooden box in one of the corners of the room. Jinyoung quickly found a thick, blue wool blanket with white polka dots on it and took it out. There was more stuff in the box, but Jinyoung made his way back to the couch, the blanket in his hand.

When he stood in front of the couch, Yugyeom reached out for his wrist and he pulled him back down beside him.  
It took Jinyoung concentration to control his body to do what he wanted it to. He nearly landed on Yugyeom, but shifted away from him a little, his side still pressed against Yugyeom’s.  
He was so warm.  
Jinyoung wanted to lean onto him. Wanted to feel his warmth against his body and when Yugyeom’s hand started to play with Jinyoung’s fingers, his heart tried jumping out of his body.  
Jinyoung feared his egoistic heart would wake up all the plants, if it hammered any louder.  
“Sir… I was wondering,” Yugyeom’s voice was barely more than a whisper, “do you trust me?”

“Why would I have to trust you?” Jinyoung huffed but the sarcastic undertone was drowned in the booze and the darkness around them.

“Because I’m taking care of you,” Yugyeom said, letting his fingertips draw circles on the back of Jinyoung’s hand.

“You don’t need to,” Jinyoung whispered, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know, but…,” Yugyeom looked at him and Jinyoung felt himself a little trapped in his eyes, “isn’t it nice when someone else does it, too?”

That familiar warm feeling spread in his stomach.

“Maybe.”  
“I want to protect you, sir,” Yugyeom breathed and Jinyoung realized how close his face was. It was so close that he could see that his nose and cheeks were painted in a pink color, similar to his hair.

“I told you not to call me that…”

“I want to protect you….Jinyoung,” Yugyeom whispered.

His name sounded so soft and warm coming out of his mouth. Like it wasn’t the same name other people had used for him all his life. His name had been spit out and it had been said like a curse and it had sounded boring and casual before.  
Falling off Yugyeom’s lips it sounded like a promise. Like a warm wing wrapping itself around Jinyoung’s body.

He stared back at the boy in front of him, not able to form words and then Yugyeom closed the space between them and kissed him.  
The blanket still in his hands, one of Yugyeom’s hands on his waist and his soft lips pressed onto Jinyoung’s.  
He swore the wind stopped howling for a moment and the water stopped dripping from the ceiling and it felt like all the plants held their breath for a second, before a rush of adrenaline went through Jinyoung’s body and the alcohol made his senses blurry.

He didn’t know what he was doing, when he let go off the blanket and softly wrapped his hands around Yugyeom’s neck instead.  
He was so warm, so warm, so warm and he tasted like beer and smelled like aftershave and a bit of cheap perfume and Jinyoung inhaled those scents.  
Their tongues brushed against each other and Jinyoung heard his own breathing, shaky and needy.  
The sofa beneath them whined quietly, when Jinyoung readjusted himself to kneel on Yugyeom’s side. Yugyeom’s hands had his waist in a tight grip and Jinyoung dared to let him protect him a little.  
Hell, with his mind that far gone, he would have gladly laid his life into Yugyeom’s hands.

He didn’t know when he had climbed into Yugyeom’s lap, but he felt Yugyeom’s warm arms wrapped around his body and his teeth tugging on his lips and Jinyoung mindlessly drew little circles with his hips on Yugyeom.  
But even in his drunken state he didn’t dare to go further, didn’t dare to let Yugyeom’s hard on under him make him loose the last bit of his mind. He didn’t know how long they sat there kissing and kissing and whenever Yugyeom whispered little things that made no sense, Jinyoung felt his heart jump a little. Maybe he let one or two moans slip against Yugyeom’s mouth.

“I’m gonna protect you.”  
“I’m gonna care of you, sir.”  
“I’ll do everything.”  
“Jinyoung…”

Jinyoung just listened to him and to the wind howling through the ruin and to the silent soundtrack of drip-drop-drip-drop of the plant-watering-machine.


	3. THREE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** There's some homophobic speech in this chapter!
> 
> But hey, Hwasa and Wheein are in there :P

_> A strange contract was developing between them- which made Jinyoung act like he merely accepted Yugyeom in his life and Yugyeom acted like he wasn’t tragically falling in love with Jinyoung.<_

 

 

When Jinyoung woke up the next morning, he stared at the ceiling of his room, sun shining in through the heavy curtains and his posters looking down on him mockingly.  
A slight headache, a foul taste in his mouth and the memories came streaming in.  
He remembered everything, from Yugyeom dancing, to Yugyeom kissing him and from him whispering sweet nonsense between those kisses to both of them walking back to the villa through dark streets, sometimes hand in hand, sometimes not.  
He remembered everything.  
When he sat up he cringed.  
His headache a little more than a slight one, the taste in his mouth more like actual vomit.

Jinyoung stared out the window, his thoughts swirling through his mind and he felt like it should have been raining, but the sun shining into his room was merciless.  
How the hell was he supposed to go downstairs to have breakfast with his dad and the maids and Yugyeom, Yugyeom, Yugyeom.  
No way!  
How could he possibly look into his eyes after what happened, how could he possibly look at Yugyeom smiling and laughing, when he had said all those things to him the night before?  
A few of the caterpillars in his stomach woke up just at the thought of Yugyeom, just at the thought of his warm voice and his touch that was like silk on Jinyoung’s skin.

Jinyoung groaned and let his heavy body fall back into the mattress and he decided not to have breakfast, because he wasn’t hungry anyway.  
Not hating people was a whole lot of stress.

 

For the rest of the day Yugyeom wasn’t in the house, because he worked his supermarket shift and around noon Jinyoung could finally leave his room, after spending half his day on the laptop, trying not to think about anything at all.

-  
It wasn’t that easy to avoid Yugyeom on Sunday though, because they were all home and Jinyoung’s brother Jaebum came to visit for the first time in weeks.

Jinyoung couldn’t just lock himself away all day, so he found himself sitting in the living room with Jaebum, their father, Yugyeom and Mary.  
It was the definition of awkward, but only for Jinyoung, it seemed.  
Yugyeom was his usual sunny self and Jaebum did all the talking and Jinyoung tried to listen- he really did. But with Yugyeom sitting in the armchair beside him, it was difficult. He couldn’t help but to replay everything that happened in his mind and his eyes trailed over to Yugyeom’s plump, rosy lips without his permission.

When their eyes met, Yugyeom smiled a careful smile and Jinyoung’s chest felt warm and fuzzy. He tried to avoid his deer eyes, but it was a nearly impossible task.

“I made an arrangement to break down a wall in my apartment,” Jaebum told them, “the living room is gonna be twice as big.”

Jinyoung forced himself to smile at his brother and hummed when necessary and he was glad that his father asked all the questions, Jaebum seemed to wait for.  
Mary and Yugyeom exchanged one or two glances and for a moment Jinyoung felt like they knew something he didn’t, but then the maid stood up and went to go back to her work.

 

After two hours of being in a room that felt too full and after sitting way too close to Yugyeom and after they’d drunken coffee and eaten biscuits, Jinyoung took the first chance to get back into his room.  
His brother knocked at the door five minutes later.

“Are you alright, Jinyoung?” he wanted to know, while he closed the door behind himself.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jinyoung said. He opened the window to let some air in. It was incredibly difficult to breathe sometimes.

“How’s college?” his brother wanted to know, while he claimed Jinyoung’s chair. “Is Jae still bothering you?”

“It’s fine,” Jinyoung mumbled. The last person he wanted to talk about was Jae.

“Then why do you have a bodyguard now?” Jaebum shook his head with a little sarcastic huff and a lazy smile on his face and Jinyoung didn’t like the expression.  
Actually, now that he thought about it, the last person he wanted to talk about was his bodyguard.

“Dad’s being paranoid is all.” He sat down on his bed and sighed again. In his 22 years on this earth, he hadn’t found a way to lie to Jaebum yet. No matter how casual he made things sound; his brother seemed to see the truth like it was painted onto Jinyoung’s forehead.  
He wondered which truths Jaebum could see right that moment, looking at him, while he spun around on the desk chair.

College is hell.  
I’m still getting bullied.  
And now I also kissed my bodyguard… just because that’s what my life needed, y’know….more problems.

“Is he doing his job well?” Jaebum asked and Jinyoung had to look away again. He started his laptop, just to have something to do.

“I guess, yeah.” Jinyoung’s voice sounded a little too thin.

“Well...,” Jaebum nodded, “I thought it was weird how much he looks at you, but I guess that’s his job after all.”  
Jinyoung could feel his calculating glance on him, while he typed in his password, had to delete it again and typed it in a second time.  
“Just be careful, Jinyoungie,” Jaebum said, “I know you’re a guy, but there’s people who like that kinda bullshit.”

Jinyoung thought he hadn’t heard right at first. But then he looked up from his laptop and over to Jaebum and his brother’s face was completely straight, there was no hint that he could be making fun of him whatsoever. He even smiled, nearly caringly, as if he was doing him a favor.  
Jinyoung’s throat felt dry, when he tried to answer. Something about his brother’s voice reminded him a little bit of Jae.

“Yeah,” Jinyoung brought out, his voice sounding colder and stronger than he had expected, “I’ll be careful.”

-

It’s interesting how you think you know someone and how you’re convinced they share your beliefs, until the universe decides to brutally prove you wrong.

Jinyoung had found peace with the thought that most people he’d meet in his life had some kind of prejudices, some of them without knowing, some of them too lazy to care about it, some of them convinced they’re the most open minded people on earth.  
But blatant words of hate never failed to hurt him.

Knowing Jaebum and his sharp senses, there was a good possibility that he had known about Jinyoung’s bisexuality for a while, even though he’d been out of the house when Jinyoung started to figure things out himself. He’d prefer blaming his unknowing for his rudeness, but he knew his brother too well.

And when Jaebum left the house that Sunday evening, Jinyoung felt like he had poisoned the air a little bit, because it was so hard to breathe again, even when he stood at his windowsill and tried not to think about the words that made a little storm rage in his chest.

If Jaebum knew what kind of direction he gave Jinyoung with his words, he maybe wouldn’t have spoken at all.

That’s what Jinyoung thought when he wrote a message to Yugyeom, telling him to meet him in the washroom.

-

It was not half as slow and soft as their first kiss in the ruin, but not less breathtaking and even though they were completely sober that night, Jinyoung was tipsy on adrenaline. He was sat on the washing machine in the dark room in the basement, Yugyeom in front of him, his tongue swirling hot in his mouth and his hands roaming Jinyoung’s slim figure. He was about to get drunk on Yugyeom’s touch.

“Tell me to stop, sir,” he breathed out and his hand sneaked under Jinyoung’s shirt, his touch hot and strong on his skin.  
Jinyoung suppressed a tiny moan.  
“Why?” he brought out between kisses.

His fingers clawed into Yugyeom’s shoulder blades and he could feel his every muscle move.  
Yugyeom sucked on the nape of his neck and Jinyoung wrapped his legs around his waist. He needed his body closer, needed him closer, needed their bodies to melt together.  
He could feel Yugyeom’s hard on pressing against his thigh and it nearly made him lose his mind.

“Because this is wrong,” Yugyeom breathed on his neck and Jinyoung was painfully hard in his sweatpants.

“And if I told you to go on?” Jinyoung purred. “If this was an order?”  
Yugyeom looked at him for a moment and his fingers traced little secretive patterns under Jinyoung’s shirt, drawing down his sides and making shivers of lust run through Jinyoung.

“Then I’d obey, sir.” He grinned. And then his hands were on Jinyoung’s ass, groping him slightly, while their tongues danced around in their mouths, their dicks pressed together.  
It wasn’t messy, but they weren’t really able to think either, just trying to get as much friction out of their touches as possible and when Jinyoung let his fingers curiously slide into Yugyeom’s sweatpants, he could feel how hard he was and it was the first time in his life to touch another person like that.  
Yugyeom’s movements slowed down a bit, while Jinyoung started stroking him and then he reached for Jinyoung’s waistband, without loosening their kiss.

“Is this alright?” Yugyeom purred against his mouth and Jinyoung buried his face in the nape of Yugyeom’s shoulder, breathing a shaky “yeah” against his skin.

His hand was hot and Jinyoung’s dick twitched a bit under his touch, a wave of pleasure flooding over him, when Yugyeom started teasing his sensitive tip and then stroking his whole shaft.  
It was new and exciting and vulnerable and Jinyoung felt like he was in some kind of wet dream, but the darkness in the washroom and the quiet buzzing of the heater in the background were so real and Yugyeom’s hands on his body so loving.

“Jinyoung,” Yugyeom panted and it made Jinyoung want to kiss him deeper. Just to see how his name tasted on his tongue.

They pumped each other harder, while their tongues played around and Jinyoung wished the night would never come to an end, but he also knew he wouldn’t last that long anyway.

He had to stifle his moans and he looked into Yugyeom’s eyes, when he spluttered his cum over their hands and Yugyeom came shortly after him, just a few more quick strokes needed.  
He groaned Jinyoung’s name breathlessly and Jinyoung felt the butterflies rebel in his gut.

“This is so dirty…” Jinyoung mumbled, when he looked down at their pants and their hands, covered in spurts of fluid and stickiness, but Yugyeom just hummed in satisfaction and lifted Jinyoung’s chin with his clean hand, to tilt his head up and bring their lips back together. He sucked and tugged a little on them and then he smiled into the kiss, making their teeth click against each other silently.

“I think it’s nice,” he whispered and Jinyoung couldn’t help but pull him closer, not caring about the sticky mess between them. Or anything else, really.

-

A strange contract was developing between them.  
A contract that made Jinyoung act as if he merely accepted Yugyeom in his life for pleasure purposes and Yugyeom acted like he wasn’t tragically falling in love with Jinyoung.  
A contract, which forbid both of them to let a single word leave their lips over what happened, not only in the little ruin of a house, but also in the washroom, completely sober and bodies pressed together like it was the last day of the earth, Yugyeom’s hands eager on Jinyoung’s body or the following nights, whenever Yugyeom knocked on Jinyoung’s door in the middle of the night, as if he knew he wasn’t able to sleep.  
Wasn’t able to think about how wrong this all was on so many levels and how nobody could ever find out about it.

They spent hours just kissing the night away, sometimes standing at Jinyoung’s windowsill, the wind cold on their skin and Jinyoung’s cigarette still between his fingers, burning down on its own, because Jinyoung’s was busy tasting Yugyeom’s kiss.  
Sometimes on Yugyeom’s bed, speaking through light and sleepy touches only, when none of them dared to say a word, because it felt like words would break that nearly magical tension.

-

On a Friday after school they sat in the tram again. It was a sunny day, but not too hot and Jinyoung brought his study material. They shared earphones and listened to a playlist of Jinyoung’s favorite songs and it was over half the way, when Yugyeom took his own earphone out and looked at Jinyoung unsure.  
That one stopped the music.

“What?” he asked warily.

“I kinda need to tell you something,” Yugyeom admitted and the way he played with the earphone in his hand made Jinyoung nervous.

“What is it?”

“Jackson’s gonna come to the house…and a few more friends-“

“Are you serious?” Jinyoung brought out.

Yugyeom nodded and looked at Jinyoung carefully.  
“The grass really need to be cut and Jackson called today and everyone is free-“  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jinyoung huffed. The streets flew by them and Jinyoung felt the unease take over his body.

“Because then you wouldn’t have come, “ Yugyeom mumbled, “but we need your help.”  
Jinyoung sighed. He wasn’t prepared to meet Yugyeom’s friends and he wasn’t prepared for them to meet him. He wasn’t even sure if he ever wanted to meet them, because yes, they were Yugyeom’s friends, but they were still people and Jinyoung really didn’t need more of those in his life.  
His foot was tapping nervously and Yugyeom watched him.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he mumbled, “I just thought it would be a nice change…”

Jinyoung nodded.

 

He could have gone back, could have taken the next tram in the direction they came from, but he didn’t. Partly because of his pride and because going back would be proof for his weakness, partly because Yugyeom’s smile lit up so brightly, when he agreed to stay.

There was Jackson and his girlfriend, already at work, when they arrived.  
Yugyeom hadn’t lied, they had come to cut the grass and weeds around the campfire down, because it was getting too high and also the stomped down path to the house.  
Jinyoung had never really thought about those things, but someone had to take care of the bit of land and the house in order for it to be usable.

Jackson and Hyejin were the definition of easy going.  
They laughed a lot and Jinyoung felt his body relaxing in their presence.

The lawnmower Jackson brought was small. It was the smallest Jinyoung had ever seen.

“People looked at us so weird when we stood in the bus with this thing…” Jackson said and Yugyeom laughed.

“They only looked at us because you turned it on!” Hyejin slapped his shoulder lightly.

“I told you it was an accident!” Jackson whined. “My foot slipped.”

Jinyoung figured that they weren’t really the kind of people to be afraid of.

Him and Yugyeom had to carry the huge rocks out of the way, so Jackson could mow around them and Hyejin was busy freeing the house from a few of the ranking plants with a big hedge trimmer, not all of them, just the ones that grew through the ground in the house and the ones around the window holes and just everything that was in the way. It hurt Jinyoung a little to watch, even though it was necessary to be able to stay. In his mind he apologized to the ghosts in the walls and the nature gods for destroying their artworks and their peace.

Around four pm, Hyejin’s best friend joined them and Jinyoung couldn’t help but get nervous again.  
But Wheein was just as easy going as the others and the way she ruffled through Yugyeom’s hair when they hugged, was kinda cute.  
She also surprised Hyejin by back hugging her and Jinyoung nervously watched how Hyejin waved around with the huge hedge trimmer.  
“Good job, gurl!” Wheein cooed, when she looked at Hyejin’s work.

“Thanks, I learned from the best!” she grinned, “but I feel bad for the plants.”

“They’ll grow back quicker than you can look.” Wheein said and overtook her tool for a while.

Jinyoung didn’t talk much, didn’t know what to say anyway and was busy with his tasks, but he enjoyed looking at the rest of them now and then, hearing Hyejin and Wheein laugh and talk and play fight each other and Jackson trying to win back Hyejin’s attention.

But mostly he just watched Yugyeom.  
Seeing him happy and at ease with his friends, made Jinyoung calmer.  
It was a little bit weird to be the only new one, the one that didn’t understand insider gags or couldn’t talk about good old times, but it was alright.  
He liked observing and he didn’t really belong to them anyway.

The sun hadn’t been aggressive, but Jinyoung’s skin was covered in a layer of sweat, when they were done. The stones were back at their place around the fireplace and the grass was cut and the house was clearer from plants, but still shined in bright green colors and as breathtaking as ever.  
It was six pm when they all sat down around the fireplace and drank cola and water and everything that was still there.  
Someone had to do grocery shopping soon, Jinyoung thought.

“We look so cute right now.” Wheein giggled, waving her hand over the scene, all of them exhausted and grateful for their drinks, sitting around in the cool air, while the sun slowly set.

“We’re always cute, baby.” Hyejin winked at Wheein and that one pinched her in the side.

“Let’s be cute together then.” Wheein grinned widely. “We’d make a pretty couple.”

Jinyoung saw Jackson beside them nervously watching them and he quickly understood that the girls had fun making him a little jealous.

“Yah, let’s take a photo!” Jackson interrupted them. “Of all of us,” he quickly added.

And when he said all of them, he even meant Jinyoung, so it came that the all scooted together around the stones, Wheein on Hyejin’s lap and Jackson’s arm around his girlfriend, Yugyeom and Jinyoung standing behind all of them awkwardly.  
Yugyeom’s hand lay softly around Jinyoung’s waist and he tried to smile for the picture, the camera counting down with loud peeps, but he couldn’t stop wondering how he got into this situation.  
How he had a bunch of people his age around him and how his stomach was full of butterflies, when Yugyeom pulled his body a little closer.  
If you had told him about this scene a month ago, he would’ve told you to stop mocking him.

He didn’t dare to feel too normal though, or too safe, or too at home on Yugyeom's side, in this little idyllic picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry Jaebum is so annoying in this chapter and I'm sorry the smut was kinda weak, but I'm lowkey invested in plot for once :P
> 
> Also... I realized that there's never really girls in my stories and it was mainly because got7 are 7 boys and I didn't want to overflood the stories with characters. 
> 
> But I want to change that now, because well....girls are pretty awsome and not represented enough, so bare with me while I basically put Mamamoo in most of my upcoming stories^^


	4. FOUR

_> Jinyoung’s name was the sweetest nothing he had ever heard, when Yugyeom moaned it.<_

 

Jinyoung lay awake again.   
In school he had heard Jae talking about Yugyeom again and it made Jinyoung feel sick.  
  
The dark of his room was suffocating; it felt like the walls kept moving closer, slowly but surely, unstoppable. Once again his posters started mocking him.   
Saying things like _“you think you have problems? Try joining a rock band, kid…”_ and “ _there’s worse than wanting another man, we’ve all been there.”_  
But Jinyoung didn’t listen, he listened to the wind howling through his half open window, cold on his skin and the quiet of the streets outside, only interrupted by the occasional car, maybe on its way to get out of this complicated city.   
  
Jinyoung took a deep breath, when he sat up.   
He grabbed his cigarettes and his music player, closed the window and tiptoed through his room, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible.  
He wore nothing but a too small placebo shirt, the fabric barely covering his navel and a pair of sweatpants, when he made his way through the hallway.   
  
The floor whined, as if it tried to tell the whole world, “ _Look at this idiot, sneaking out of his little rich kid room to meet with his bodyguard in the middle of the night.”  
_ Maybe it just tried to tell him to go back, get his ass into his bed and try a little harder to fall asleep. Try a little harder not to think of Yugyeom’s big hands on his hips and his cheap perfume in the air, his rosy lips on his neck. To try a little harder not to make his life more complicated than it already was.  
  
But his stupid feet didn’t listen to the floor. They carried him down the hallway, until he stood in front of Yugyeom’s door once again, next to the trophy room, in which all of his mother’s awards silently laughed at him.   
  
He opened the door without knocking. What if Yugyeom was asleep? Would he just go back like the absolute idiot he was?  
But Yugyeom sat up in his bed. The room was a lot smaller than Jinyoung’s, a lot emptier, no posters on the walls, but a bunch of potted plants, mostly Cacti, on the nightstand and around the windowsill.  
  
“Sir?”Yugyeom’s voice whispered out of the dark, “What are you doing?“  
  
“I can’t sleep,” Jinyoung said, as if that explained everything.  
  
“Me neither,” Yugyeom said and his voice was like a soft humming in the dark. Jinyoung made his way to the windowsill, pulled the heavy curtains aside and was greeted by cold moonlight. He didn’t pay attention to Yugyeom, when he crawled out of his bed in nothing but some sweatpants, his bare torso glowing in the moonlight.  
  
Jinyoung lit a cigarette, blew the smoke into the wind, like he always did and Yugyeom watched him with those gentle eyes, like he always did.  
  
“What are you thinking about, Sir?” he breathed and when Jinyoung offered him a cigarette he shook his head.  
  
“Nothing much,” he exhaled, “my mother, people in school, the future…”  
  
“Do you think about me as well?”  
  
“Why?”

“Because I’m thinking of you, Sir,” Yugyeom confessed.  
  
“What are you thinking then?” His voice sounded steady and didn’t show a hint of his pulse hammering in his whole body.  
  
Jinyoung grinded the cigarette out on the windowsill and looked at Yugyeom.   
He looked so mature in that cold light, shadows under his eyes, a light stubble around his jaw. Yugyeom looked out the window and into the night.  
  
“I always think the same thing…,” he whispered. “That I want to protect you.”  
  
“I told you I don’t need protection,” Jinyoung said and arched his back.  
  
“Yeah…,” Yugyeom sighed, “I also think about how much I want you.”  
  
Jinyoung stayed silent.   
His stupid uncooperative heart raced again, started doing that thing it did around Yugyeom, beating fast and hectically as if it tried running away from something and didn’t stand a single chance.  
It started to make it difficult to stand on his own two feet without leaning onto the boy and hold onto his broad shoulders and started to spread this warmth in his stomach that made the beautiful moonlight seem a little dull in Yugyeom’s presence.  
The boy looked at him.  
  
“We can stop this whole thing, sir,” he breathed. It was the first time one of them even acknowledged that there was a thing. “This is not what my job is all about…”  
  
“Yeah,” Jinyoung agreed and turned toward Yugyeom, “I could get you fired for this.”  
  
“I know,” Yugyeom smiled, “It would be worth it.”  
  
“Would it really?” Jinyoung asked and without his mind’s permission his fingers wandered to Yugyeom’s naked torso, letting his fingertips trace over his warm skin. A breeze of cold wind blew through the window and Yugyeom reached out to stroke a strand of hair out of Jinyoung’s face.  
  
“Would this be worth losing your job?” Jinyoung asked.  
  
“Yes…sir,” Yugyeom said without hesitation.

“Good answer,” Jinyoung breathed, before he stood on his tiptoes just a little bit to reach Yugyeom, to let his lips ghost over his and to let his hands wander to his neck.   
  
Jinyoung could feel his strength in the way he held his waist in a tight but gentle grip, the way he had to lean down to kiss him, the way Yugyeom’s body shielded him from the merciless wind blowing through the curtains.  
They kissed quietly, their hands softer and their touches more careful than the times before.   
Their unsteady breathing exposed in the silence of the night and Yugyeom’s protectiveness everything Jinyoung needed to survive.  
  
When Yugyeom wrapped his arms around Jinyoung and pulled him up to straddle his waist, Jinyoung didn’t protest. He let Yugyeom carry him to the bed and lay him down, his face right over him, his kiss back the second they were on the bed.  
 Over Jinyoung, shielding him from the whole world.

“Let me take care of you, sir,” Yugyeom whispered, his hands sneaking under Jinyoung’s sleep shirt, the fabric bunched up on his chest the next moment, Yugyeom’s warm touch on his torso, his sides, his nipples, everywhere.   
And Jinyoung felt his power vanishing, felt his pride melting under Yugyeom’s sweet caress.  
  
“Okay,” he breathed, when Yugyeom kissed his neck, sucking on his skin and making shivers of lust run through Jinyoung’s body, his blood floated in his veins, his heart hammering, his lower stomach burning.  
  
Yugyeom smiled, when he kissed down his neck and to his collarbones, his gentle hands not once leaving him.  
  
He kissed his way down Jinyoung’s body and Jinyoung held his breath, when he hooked his fingers into the elastic of his sweatpants.  
Yugyeom sent a little asking glance up to Jinyoung and that one felt his face heating up.   
  
“Go on, you idiot,” he mumbled and Yugyeom chuckled.  
Then he pulled down Jinyoung’s pants, helping him out of them and letting his fingers trace his bulge.   
  
When he pulled down his briefs, his length sprung free obscenely and Jinyoung resisted the urge to hide his face.  
  
“Have you… ever done this?”   
  
Jinyoung’s heart nearly dropped.  
  
“D-don’t ask shit like that,” he hissed.   
  
“I’m sorry, sir.”   
Yugyeom kissed Jinyoung’s thighs, let his fingers rub over his length, touched him like he was made of porcelain and like a wrong move would make him break into a million pieces.  
  
“You don’t have to be so careful,” Jinyoung brought out. His voice already shaky and needy.  
  
Yugyeom still was.  
 So careful.  
 Even when he licked Jinyoung’s precum from his tip, it was sweet and made Jinyoung’s brain melt a   
little.  
When he wrapped his lips around him, he swirled his tongue around his shaft and Jinyoung let an embarrassing moan slip his tongue.  
He wished Yugyeom would go a little harder, a little faster, a little less careful. Having someone like Yugyeom worship him like this, handling him like an expensive porcelain doll- it was degrading. It forced him to feel all of these things he tried not to think about in the first place.  
 Like the caterpillars in his stomach, ready to turn into huge colorful butterflies. Or the warmth in his chest that tried to swallow him whole.  
If he was a little less sweet and gentle, Jinyoung might have been able to blame his filthy, primitive wanting for everything he did.  
   
He came quicker than he wanted to.  
 Came with his fingers curled into Yugyeom’s pale red hair and his thighs shivering a little, Yugyeom’s name in an embarrassing whimper on his lips. Yugyeom’s innocent eyes looked up at him and watched it all, even while he swallowed down his cum, wiped a few driblets off his lips and looked illegally stunning while doing so, with the glow of the moonlight framing his figure.  
  
“Fuck, Yugyeom,” Jinyoung panted.   
  
“Was that good, sir?” Yugyeom smiled, while he crawled back up to Jinyoung’s side.  
  
“Yeah.” Jinyoung’s mind had still not completely returned to this universe, he still tried to hold himself together so he wouldn’t burst into thousands of stars.   
When he had found back his senses, he wanted to retreat the favor, wanted to do what he had never done before, wanted to touch Yugyeom like he had touched him, but when he reached down to his pants, Yugyeom wasn’t hard. He sneaked his fingers underneath the fabric of his sweatpants and only found a sticky wet patch.   
  
“You looked pretty hot, sir,” Yugyeom mumbled, with a rosy blush on his nose and cheeks.  
  
Jinyoung let himself fall back into the pillow, his pulse in every part of his body, tingles exploding in his gut, his heart jumping around.  
  
“I told you not to call me that.”

-

  
Yugyeom brought him to school every day and picked him up every day.   
That was his job, after all.   
The hand jobs in the washroom or in the toilets on the first floor and the midnight make out sessions in their rooms were not a part of his job description, but they were a part of the silent contract he had with Jinyoung.   
The contract that didn’t even allow them to think about it longer than two seconds.  
 Because it was what it was and thinking would just ruin the whole thing, the electricity and the growing need in Jinyoung’s bones.  
There were so many questions and not enough answers to match or answers that he didn’t dare to even think of.  
  
What if Jae was right after all?   
Was Yugyeom his lover?  
 And why did Jinyoung not fire him and throw him out of the house after that night in the ruin without doors or windows?  
  
Why did he think about Yugyeom in the middle of class, when he was bored of listening to his professor’s words, why did he want the hours in school to fly by faster and why did he sometimes skip classes just to call Yugyeom and spend the time in their little abandoned house instead?  
Why did his heart jump a little, when he saw the boy with the too small leather jacket waiting for him at the end of the streets and why were his outgrowing black roots endearing more than anything now?  
  
Jinyoung knew the answers, he wasn’t stupid after all, but he simply didn’t allow his brain to go there.

-

  
When they made love for the first time, they were in the little house. It wasn’t exactly as romantic as it could have been, but romantic wasn’t what Jinyoung wanted anyway.   
For Jinyoung there couldn’t have been a better way than to make that first experience in the place that he was so in love with.   
  
He had been surprised when Yugyeom took lube and condoms out of the wooden box in the corner.   
He said something about Jackson having lots of sex on that couch and Jinyoung was grossed out for a moment.  
But then he sat in Yugyeom’s lap and didn’t think about it anymore, his pants somewhere on the floor, his brain long gone.

It was a little uncomfortable on that old couch, a little painful, a little cold, a little too windy through the holes in the cement and the springs beneath them whined and creaked, which made Yugyeom chuckle and apologize with flushed cheeks.  
  
But Jinyoung forgot who he was for a while and Yugyeom’s warm arms were wrapped around him like wings, while Jinyoung moved his hips in his lap, trying his best not to think about what he was doing.  
Yugyeom was the most careful lover in the world. Not that Jinyoung had any comparison.   
He just had to be.   
Even when Jinyoung was close to his limits, Yugyeom didn’t let go off his neck, nibbling on his skin, kissing his veins, whispering his usual sweet nothings and even sweeter everythings close to his ear.  
  
Jinyoung’s name was the sweetest nothing he had ever heard, when Yugyeom moaned it. He didn’t say it often, as if he had a limited storage of the word and only said it on special occasions, like when he took Jinyoung’s virginity in the most gentle and careful way in a house that was abandoned years and years ago.  


-  
Jinyoung couldn’t say Yugyeom filled a hole in his life or was the missing puzzle piece he had been searching for.   
None of that.   
But he gave Jinyoung a reason to go to school and to come back from school and he was the reason he didn’t hate hearing his name anymore, no matter who spit it out in front of him, because it always reminded him of Yugyeom’s little worships late at night.  
The rumor about Jinyoung’s lover was back in full bloom; people always came up with new stupid stories, maybe because they saw the boy with the red hair every day, since they found out where he waited for Jinyoung.   
  
Jinyoung tried to ignore their remarks, their rude comments under their breath and even the times they called Yugyeom his sugar daddy. It didn’t even make sense.  
Jinyoung didn’t need a sugar daddy, he had enough money, but rumors didn’t have to make sense in order to hurt.  
 It was childish, really, just a way to pass the time for them.  
 But someone had to be on the receiving end and if that someone was smart, he’d act like it didn’t bother him.  
 And that was what Jinyoung did most of the time. Acting like he was busier with his school work during lunch breaks or with reading the same book for the seventh time during a cancelled class, just so he wouldn’t attract attention.   
  
His face was a stone mask and he wondered why they didn’t just give up.   
Maybe they could feel the raging storm inside him, maybe they knew they were on a good way to break him apart, maybe they wanted to see how much more he could take, maybe his stone mask wasn’t as convincing as he thought.   
Maybe they were just really fucking bored.

So the comments didn’t stop and Yugyeom didn’t stop picking him up.   
And Jinyoung thought he could manage this, could endure this for the rest of the semester, if he had to.  
  
Until one day, a Friday afternoon, when he went to the toilet, before leaving the school and walked down the street just to see Yugyeom’s freshly dyed hair in the middle of a bunch of other people.  
It was Jae and his friends.  
  
“Fuck,” Jinyoung cursed, when he made his way over to them. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Are you his boyfriend or something?” Jae laughed into Yugyeom’s face and his friends laughed with him. One of them pushed Yugyeom, making him lose his balance.  
  
“So what if I was?” Yugyeom asked back.   
His voice clear and calm.   
Nothing like Jinyoung’s voice when Jae stood in front of him.  
 Nothing like the scaredy cat he was.  
  
Jinyoung’s blood boiled again, seething in his veins, his chest tight, when he walked through them. He couldn’t win, because the Jinyoung his classmates knew wasn’t the Jinyoung Yugyeom knew.   
  
When Jae dared to push Yugyeom again, so that the taller boy stumbled back further, Jinyoung didn’t think about it any longer.  
  
“Get away from him!” he heard his own voice say. Loud and cold and intimidating- nothing like the storm in his chest.   
He walked past Jae and bumped his shoulder.   
“He’s not my boyfriend, you pathetic fool,” he hissed.  
  
Then he walked past Yugyeom, too and that one followed him on the step, leaving Jae and his boys behind.  
Jinyoung’s heart was nearly imploding; he could barely breathe through the lump in his throat.  
If he ever had to see Jae’s hands on Yugyeom again, he would throw up.  
  
“That was…impressive,” Yugyeom stated, while he walked up beside Jinyoung, calmer than the situation allowed and looking not half as churned up as Jinyoung felt.   
There was no fear in Yugyeom, not even unease.   
  
“They’re just a bunch of idiots…,” Jinyoung said, “no big deal.”

But he knew it was a big deal.   
Because he had just made it a big deal.  
All because he couldn’t look stupid in front of Yugyeom.  
All because Yugyeom should never be a part of this stupid game.

-

Jinyoung was just a tiny little bit envious, when Yugyeom sat with him at his mahogany desk and showed him his videos of the bad religion concert on his laptop.  
  
“See?” Yugyeom grinned proudly. “Second row for like most of the concert… I was first row at the beginning, but some massive guy elbowed me in the stomach.”  
  
Jinyoung sighed. He had never been first row to anything and even though he could easily afford concert tickets, he seldom knew who to invite.   
Mark was more of a Rap fan and Jaebum was too busy to spend time with his little, disappointing, bisexual brother.  
  
“I kinda touched the drumstick, when he threw it…” Yugyeom chuckled.   
  
Jinyoung’s mind trailed off, while he watched the unsteady videos with bad sound quality and Yugyeom’s laugh just drowning most of the noises.  
He imagined himself at a concert with Yugyeom. Imagined him protecting him in the moshpits, Yugyeom being the only one sober enough to actually dance and holding Jinyoung’s hand in his, when a slower song came on. He imagined them at a placebo concert, maybe kissing instead of looking to the stage, but the bass and Brian Molko’s piercing voice in their bones.  
  
When the video ended, Yugyeom looked at him curiously. He had stood the whole time, leaning his arms on Jinyoung’s desk and now he looked at him.   
  
“Let’s go to a concert together some day!” The boy smiled.   
  
The tingling was back in Jinyoung’s stomach and he nodded.   
He wanted to tell him that he’d pay for every concert he wanted to go to, no matter how far away, but something held him back. Maybe just the thought that these might be the things Yugyeom saved money for.   
  
But Yugyeom was already busy at the laptop again, skimming through Jinyoung’s music.  
  
“Do you have a slower playlist?” he wanted to know.  
  
“Sure,” Jinyoung said, “I have a playlist for everything.”  
  
“How about a making-out-playlist?” Yugyeom grinned widely, but it didn’t hide the blush on his cheeks. Sometimes he overestimated his own bravery.  
Jinyoung’s face felt hot at his words, his heart rebelling in his chest.  
They looked at each other for a moment and then Yugyeom leaned down to kiss him.   
  
Jinyoung did not have a make-out-playlist, but it didn’t matter, because silence started to become weirdly comforting when he shared it with Yugyeom.

-

  
On a Wednesday noon Jinyoung sat on the ground in front of his classroom and his stomach growled, because the waiting queue at the school kiosk seemed to consist of every single person that wanted to make fun of Jinyoung, including Jae and his friends, so Jinyoung decided that food was overrated anyway. Standing in that line with them would have been self harm in so many ways and his brother’s voice in his mind told him he would be asking for it that way.  
  
So instead of eating, he doodled mindlessly in his notebook. Doodled the little house and the plants and the handmade watering system into his sketchbook and he screwed his face up, because he didn’t own a single colored pencil.   
  
His black pencil drawing looked dull and boring and lifeless on that page and the bunch of school notes about Freud didn’t make it look any better.  
It was an insult to his favorite place on earth, to Yugyeom’s favorite place on earth and there was the urge to rip out the page and throw it as far away from him as he could, but that would’ve been an insult to Freud.  
Jinyoung thought that some things just shouldn’t be put on paper, if they were already art in real life. Nothing would compare to the feeling anyway.

Just when he thought he had gotten through the break without any huge complications, two boys walked up to him and Jinyoung stood up, when their shadows threatened to swallow him whole.  
He gulped when he saw Jae and one of his friends standing in front of him with an excited spark in his eyes.   
  
“Saw your mom at that premiere thing last night,” Jae said, “She looked legit hot, not gonna lie.”  
  
“I mean I totally would!” The other one grinned a greasy grin, his face a grimace in Jinyoung’s eyes.  
  
“What do you want?” Jinyoung growled.  
  
“We’re just talking to you,” Jae said, “Don’t be so grumpy! This is why you don’t have friends!”

Jinyoung sighed and it didn’t sound half as resigned as he had hoped. It sounded a bit too stressed.  
  
The boys looked at each other for a moment and when Jinyoung though that might be his chance to walk past them, Jae’s voice stopped him.

“Yah, that boyfriend of yours,” he cooed, “he’s younger than you, right? He’s not your daddy…”  
  
Jinyoung didn’t answer, but something in Jae’s voice told him not to keep walking now. A shiver ran down his spine and he turned around, looking at the two of them with clenched teeth.   
Waiting for them to keep talking, giving them all the time and space to humiliate him a little more. It didn’t really matter.  
 There was nobody around anyway.  
He just wished they wouldn’t always use Yugyeom to talk down on him. It was so much harder not to say or do something stupid when they pulled him into their game.  
Jinyoung didn’t want them to talk about him, think about him or even know about his existence, he wanted those guys as far away from Yugyeom as possible.  
  
“That’s kinda sick, y’know.” Jae raised his eyebrows. “Does he like wash your shoes and make your food? Is he some kinda slave?”  
  
“He’s not a slave,” Jinyoung hissed, the blood boiling in his head and the muscles in his fingers jerking.  
  
“Mhh, what a pity,” Jae hummed, “I would’ve loved to hire him for a day… or a night, y’know.”  
  
That was the moment a dam in Jinyoung broke and before he knew what he was doing, he had kicked Jae in the shin, not as hard as his body told him to, but hard enough for the boy to screech in pain and lift his leg to rub it.   
  
“You fucking freak,” Jae cursed, “are you crazy?”  
  
Jinyoung could hear a bunch of voices from the end of the hallway and let go of the breath he was holding.  
Jae’s friend stood there a bit lost, but at least he didn’t attack Jinyoung, like he had assumed he would. He just- looked at him in shock, as if he was a wild animal or something.  
That’s when a bunch of their classmates walked closer towards their classroom and Jae stopped rubbing his shin.   
  
He just threw a hateful glance at Jinyoung and when he turned around, Jinyoung’s heart was still racing.


	5. FIVE

_> He sat close to the open window and a window wasn’t a cliff, but in that moment it felt like the same thing....Jinyoung wondered if he should just let himself fall.<_

 

 

When Yugyeom sat on Jinyoung’s bed a few days later, the air in the room was chewy and had that weird after sex smell, the smell of latex and lube and forbidden pleasures.

Only the smell of smoke calmed his nerves a little.  
When he had finished smoking, Jinyoung sat on his windowsill in nothing but his boxers, which were a little sticky and a sleep shirt, a notebook in his hand.

It had been nice, until Yugyeom dared to speak the words “I wanna talk to you”, after they had both come down from their highs, but he hadn’t said a word in minutes and Jinyoung didn’t dare to encourage him.  
He just scribbled in his notebook, over the insulting doodle of the ruin, slowly hiding what wasn’t really worth being there anyway.

They sat in silence and with every unspoken word the air felt heavier on Jinyoung’s shoulders.  
Then Yugyeom’s voice made him look up.

“I just don’t know what this is,” Yugyeom said, as if he talked to himself. “I know you need your time and all, but I’m confused.”

“What do you mean?” Jinyoung brought out, even though he knew.  
He knew.  
He knew exactly what Yugyeom was talking about and he had seen it coming. Silence was only comforting for so long.

“You say I’m not your boyfriend,” Yugyeom mumbled and there was hurt in his voice, “and I just wanna know what I am then.”

Jinyoung stared out of the window and wished he was somewhere else.

“I don’t know,” he breathed. “I know as much as you.”

They stayed silent for a while. Jinyoung watched the sun setting, nothing spectacular or too colorful, just kinda happening behind a bunch of clouds.

“We do boyfriend things, you know…” Yugyeom mumbled, his voice was softer and Jinyoung shivered.

He sat close to the open window and a window wasn’t a cliff, but in that moment it felt like the same thing, cold and scary. And with every moment he spent with Yugyeom, the risk of being pushed down that cliff was getting bigger. Jinyoung wondered if he should just let himself fall.

“And what about Jae?” Yugyeom then said, while kneading a pillow between his hands, looking down on it, his expression pained. “Does your dad know how bad it is? Or…how bad is it? You don’t tell me anything.”  
His voice wasn’t even reproachful, he just stated it. He just said what was there all the time and Jinyoung felt like he broke their silent contract by doing that.  
It was so difficult to breathe again.  
Jinyoung’s head pounded and his chest felt tight. He let the notebook fall to the ground with a dull sound. Then he stared out of the window again.

“That’s none of your business,” he mumbled, “You’re just my bodyguard, not my therapist.”

He could feel Yugyeom’s eyes staring holes in his side. Jinyoung didn’t dare to look at his expression, he didn’t want to know how the boy looked at him.

“I’m more than your bodyguard…” Yugyeom’s voice was thin. “And you know that…”

Jinyoung wanted to counter, wanted to say something smart or wanted to make him stop speaking about things that shouldn’t be said out loud, but he didn’t do any of that and the next thing he heard was Yugyeom standing up from his bed and walking through his room.  
The door opened and closed again and Jinyoung was alone.

He stared outside into the night and fought back the tears that tried to get out of his eyes and he imagined how disgusted his brother would look, if he saw him like that.

It felt like Yugyeom had opened a dam in Jinyoung and the anxiety of weeks came crushing down on him like a waterfall and he felt like he might break down under the pressure any moment.

His head was full of words and questions and different voices. His brother’s voice, Jae’s voice, Mark’s voice…

And Yugyeom’s voice saying the word boyfriend over and over again.

 

-  
He stood in his father's office and he saw his reflection in the big mirror over a shelf with little statues of elephants and other things that held no value to JInyoung.  
The circles under Jinyoung's eyes were darker than usually, because he hadn't slept all night and he felt dirty, so he tried not to look at his reflection.

“All I’m saying is that I really don’t need a bodyguard anymore,” Jinyoung said, looking through the books in his father’s bookshelf, while that one watched his every move.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean….,” Jinyoung sighed, “all this time, nothing bad happened and I’m not in danger, y’know…”

“I told you, Jinyoung, it’s not you who decides this,” his father said.

Jinyoung took a deep breath.  
He felt sick to his stomach when he thought about Yugyeom sitting in his room without a clue.  
Believing Jinyoung was nicer than he acted, thinking he might fall in love with Yugyeom, too, if they kept kissing in the ruin and thinking that Jinyoung was brave, because he stood up to his bullies.

If Yugyeom knew that he fell for the desperate act of a kid without a backbone and the bravery of a chicken, if he knew Jinyoung was trying this very minute to get him fired from his job, he would never look at him again.

And Jinyoung’s stomach turned, but it would never stop turning, if he had to sit in school every day, with Yugyeom coming to pick him up at the end of the road and being at Jae’s mercy, like Jinyoung had been all year. And his stomach would never stop turning, when he thought about their broken little contract and Jinyoung had never really been good at damage control.  
His idea of damage control usually consisted of shutting himself away from the world.

He needed to calm his own paranoid heart, needed to make sure he didn’t drag anyone else into this mess. Needed to get rid of the rumors and needed to stop what they should never have started, therefore needed to get rid of Yugyeom.  
Needed Yugyeom to go back to school and back to his parents or to Bambam or Jackson and needed him to be safe or at least risk his safety for someone that wasn’t Jinyoung.  
It was egoistic, really.  
Jinyoung couldn’t deal with all of this, so he said what he said, to his dad, when that one didn’t make any attempts to fire Yugyeom.

“Y’know I didn’t want to be a snitch, but Yugyeom isn’t doing his job very well,” he said and he knew he had his father’s attention. Now he just needed him to believe him.

“What do you mean, Jinyoung?”

“He stole stuff from the first week on,” he said, still looking through an old book, which didn’t interest him at all.

“He stole?” His father looked up with raised eyebrows and Jinyoung knew it was time to turn around and look him in the eyes.  
A lie wasn’t complete if you didn’t look your victim in the eyes, while telling it, as if to say “would I be that rude to lie to your face like this?” and most of the time people had a bit of trust in humanity, so they usually believed the things they heard. Jinyoung felt dirty and poisonous for knowing how to do it properly.

“I didn’t want to tell you because he seemed to need the money, but he kept stealing more, even out of my bag…”  
“Are you serious?” He stood up, “You need to tell me about such things, Jinyoung, that’s unacceptable. I pay him well.”

“I know you do.” Jinyoung nodded.

He already had his father where he wanted him, but Jinyoung took a deep breath and added,

“He didn’t take me to school either, only ever went half the way, wasn’t even there most of the time.”

“I see,” his father said. “We will see if we can find someone else, someone more professional.”

“Okay,” Jinyoung said.

When he closed the door to his father’s office, he felt like throwing up. He went up the stairs and stood in front of Yugyeom’s door for a long minute.  
He wanted to walk in, hug him and say goodbye at least, but his hands were shaking and his stomach twisting.  
A clean cut was the best, a clean cut that didn’t leave space for interpretations.  
A clean cut with no extra dirt in the wound, no sympathy, no goodbye, no explanation.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, before he walked past his door and into his own room.

-

Jinyoung didn’t sleep all night.  
He could hear his father knocking on Yugyeom’s door that evening and he could hear loud voices, could hear Yugyeom talking back and could hear his father stomping down the hallway ten minutes later. His father wasn’t a very temperamental man, but that didn’t mean his calm words and his strong voice couldn’t be intimidating.

The lump in Jinyoung’s throat must have had the size of a tennis ball, he couldn’t breathe, he just sat on his bed, staring at the posters, that didn’t even mock him.  
They did nothing at all.  
And Jinyoung was like frozen on his bed.  
He wasn’t so sure anymore if he did the right thing. He wasn’t even sure anymore why he did what he did, his reasons started to drown in that overwhelming flood of hurting Yugyeom.

The only thing he was absolutely sure of was that Yugyeom deserved better.  
Had always, from the very first day in this house, deserved better.  
But it was too late for regret and it was too late for apologies and it was so much too late to thank him.  
To thank him for the way he made Jinyoung’s name sound.

-  
It was the morning of the very next day that Yugyeom had to clear his room.  
It was brutal, really, he took the two or three plants with him that he had brought there from the little ruin, he had a suitcase full of his clothes and Jinyoung knew that somewhere in there he had his cheap music player and his Bad Religion shirt.  
Yugyeom and the maids ate breakfast in silence, Jinyoung sat with his dad. Yugyeom didn’t look at him once and Jinyoung didn’t hear him laugh or speak a single time.

When he went to the door, Mary and his father joined them and said goodbye, Mary hugged him like a big sister would and his father wished him good luck for the future, Jinyoung wasn’t sure if he actually meant it.  
Then the two of them were left and for the first time that day, Yugyeom looked at him, his eyes red, the circles under them dark and his bright red hair uncombed.  
Jinyoung’s chest felt constricted, there were no words that even tried leaving his throat and he just stared back at him without any expression.

“I was always there to pick you up,” Yugyeom then said, his voice thin,  
“I was there every single day of the week and I would never ever,” he spit the words out, “steal from you, Jinyoung.”

His name didn’t sound like a protective wing anymore. It sounded like a harpoon that shot right through his chest. It sounded like the name of someone who took your trust and stomped it into the ground.

“Good luck, Yugyeom,” Jinyoung said and his words felt cold between his lips. He did mean them, though.

Yugyeom huffed, looked at him, opened his mouth and closed it again. He nodded.

Then he turned around and walked through their huge front yard and Jinyoung closed the door before he had reached the garden gate.

When he resisted the urge to cry that night, tossing and turning in his sheets, his posters blamed him for every bad thing he’d ever done and every lie he’d ever told.

-  
Walking to school without Yugyeom was weird.  
It wasn’t like he couldn’t keep himself busy, he just listened to his music, but there was nobody to smile at him when he accidentally sang along to the lyrics and there was nobody to ask if he could have the second earphone and nobody who got excited, when Placebo started playing.

He tried not to look Jae in the eyes all day, tried to avoid him and his friends and acted like nothing ever happened.  
He knew Jae had his eyes on him at all time.

It took his classmates about three days to understand that there was no ‘lover’ anymore and that they couldn’t use that against him anymore. But they found ways to laugh at him. They would always find ways and it was something Jinyoung could live with somehow, if it was just him they’d laugh at.

“Did your sugar daddy break up with you?” one of the boys cooed and Jae just sat somewhere in the background with a lazy grin on his face.

 

Jinyoung wanted to tell Mark about everything.  
Whenever his best friend sat on his bed, asking him how things were, he wanted to tell him about the little ruin and about having all these first times with Yugyeom and about his ugly and cowardly lie and about Jae, who seemed to get more aggressive with his hatred every day.  
But whenever he opened his mouth, the words wouldn’t come out.  
He felt like it would hurt the invisible, broken contract between him and Yugyeom even more and like he needed to get through this alone.  
Telling Mark about it would mean having someone worry about him and that never ended well.  
So he didn’t tell him.

Some nights he found himself standing at his big window, smoking on his own and staring outside for minutes and minutes and wondering if Yugyeom would find a new job, a new home.  
A new man.  
Then the smoke got stuck beside the lump in his throat and he didn’t want to finish the cigarette anymore.  
When The Ramones or Bad Religion or Placebo came up in his playlists, he skipped the songs.  
It was alright.  
He had been alone before, had been used to the empty first floor and knew how to act like he didn’t need anyone else.  
There was still Mark in his life, who reminded him that he wasn’t alone in the world and there was his father, who was busy, but there to eat breakfast with him.

But there was this hole in his routine, in his daily life, in his thinking.  
Not only did he miss Yugyeom’s presence, his skin on his and his warm arms around him, he missed going to their little house, missed sneaking into his room at night, missed hearing him laugh with the maids and the gardener.  
It was like he came into his life without permission, stole a bit of Jinyoung’s life, a bit of his routine, a bit of his heart and when he was thrown out, he took all of these pieces with him as revenge.  
But it wasn’t like Yugyeom to seek revenge; Jinyoung doubted he even knew he had taken those things with him. Yugyeom probably still thought he was the only one falling in love.  
And he was so wrong.

Yugyeom sent him a message after two weeks, asking him to meet up and talk and Jinyoung stared at his phone.  
A part of him wanted to. Wanted to apologize or explain or anything, really.  
Most of all he wanted Yugyeom back in his little life, wanted to be able to visit the ruin again, but it felt like he lost the privilege of stepping into that idylle. He feared the ghosts in the walls would throw him out for disturbing their peace and for hurting Yugyeom, their human child.  
Jinyoung just hoped that Yugyeom was there now and then and that they comforted him.

So he closed the message and put his phone away.  
He had had his reasons, even though they started to look stupid.  
He had his reasons.  
Right?

-

Mary was the only one who had asked him what really happened between Yugyeom and him.

And Jinyoung had lied again, the same lie, but Mary didn’t believe a single word he said.  
“Yugyeom adored you, y’know,” she had said, “and we both know he wouldn’t steal.”

“What do you know?” he had huffed.

“Do you really think he didn’t talk to me?” Mary had said, her voice way too soft, “He was crushing so hard on you and he couldn’t shut up about you, to the point where it got annoying to be honest…”

Thinking back on it, Jinyoung felt a tiny smile on his face, felt his heart beating faster, when he lay awake at night but then he remembered that it didn’t matter now.  
And by talking to Mary, Yugyeom had broken their silent contract long before Jinyoung knew. Now that he thought about it, in his huge bed in that dark and empty room, he wondered if there had ever been a contract between them or if he just made that up to feel better.

-

Three weeks after Yugyeom left, Jinyoung’s mom called him. Jinyoung sat on his carpet, leaning against the frame of his bed and playing with a loose thread on the floor.  
“How are you doing?” Her voice sounded tired.

“Good,” Jinyoung said. “I heard you took a new role?”

“Yeah, darling, listen, I wanted to tell you about this, but I was so busy.”

“It’s alright…What kinda role is it?” He wanted to know.

“I can’t tell you yet, but let’s talk when I’m home next time…”

“Sure.”

Silence.  
Jinyoung didn’t know what to say, didn’t really want to talk, felt like his mother was too busy anyway. Talking to his mother had gotten exhausting lately.

“I heard your father had to fire the bodyguard.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a shame, it’s so hard to find hardworking personal nowadays.”

Jinyoung kept silent. His blood was boiling again. He thought about Yugyeom, thought about his plants and the way he cared for them, thought about him saving money and how damn careful he always touched Jinyoung.

“But I didn’t think that brat would steal-“

“He’s not a brat,” Jinyoung heard himself hiss.

“What?”

“How can you call him a brat when you don’t even know him?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“How can you judge anything, mom?” Jinyoung said and he already felt the tears gathering behind his eyes, “when you haven’t really been home in years?”

It was silent again. He heard his mother breathe in deeply.

“Now you’re being unfair, Jinyoung,” she said.

“Whatever,” he answered. “I don’t really wanna talk right now.”

“Okay,” she sighed and her voice was thin. “Take care, darling.”

“Sure.”  
He wondered if Yugyeom still worked in a supermarket?  
Wondered in which one and wondered why he didn’t even know that about him.  
When he went to sleep it wasn’t even 7pm.

-

It wasn’t Mark’s fault that Jinyoung cursed when he saw him standing at the school gate, waiting for him with a bag full of fast food. It wasn’t his fault, because he didn’t know.  
He knew there were bullies, but he couldn’t know that a single thing like another guy picking him up from school would add fuel to the fire in his personal hell for at least two weeks. Or for as long as it took them to either get bored or find a new thing to laugh about.  
He looked around but Jae and the boys were already watching him. Mark smiled from afar and Jinyoung knew there was no way he could avoid this situation.  
So he walked towards him, let Mark pull him into a quick hug and only dared to push his arm off when he put it around Jinyoung’s shoulder.  
“Hey.” Jinyoung said.  
They started walking away from the building immediately.

“What’s wrong?” Mark wondered when they had to stop at a crosswalk.

“Just Jae and the others,” he nodded back to the school, “they’ll probably call you my lover now…”

“Really?” Mark brought out. “This is like elementary school all over again….”  
The light turned green and they walked at a smart pace.

“I know,” Jinyoung sighed, “But they get really into it.”

“Assholes,” Mark huffed.

“Yeah.”

“But hey, I have burgers and coke and everything...”

They went to the park together. The one where Jinyoung had skipped his first class and when he sat at the same spot, looking at the swings and eating his burger, Mark looked at him.

“Jin, what happened with Yugyeom?” he asked.

Jinyoung looked at him for a while and then he decided “fuck it” and told Mark most of the things that happened in the past months.

“So… you two were a thing?” he asked.

“I guess, yeah…,” Jinyoung mumbled, “It wasn’t like he was my…boyfriend.”  
It made him feel weak and unprotected to reveal this to anyone, no matter how close, no matter how accepting. He hadn’t really talked about his sexuality before and he wasn’t sure if he was ready.

“I didn’t know you were into guys…,” Mark said carefully.

“I…I’m…,” Jinyoung said, “I don’t know, okay… I really don’t know what all of this is…”

“Okay…,” Mark nodded, “but I told you he likes you.”

He watched as a little kid ran towards the swings and he kept his voice down.

“Well he doesn’t like me anymore,” Jinyoung said, “I made him hate me.”  
“Why?”

“I don’t know, Jae and his boys were with him...” He wrapped his jacket closer around his shoulders, when the wind blew extra hard around his neck.  
“And he dropped the ‘what are we’ question.”

“And you got scared,” Mark finished his sentence. It wasn’t judgmental. It was nearly like Mark understood.

Jinyoung nodded and took another huge bite from his dripping burger, watching the little kid swing alone, just to have anywhere else to look than into Mark’s worried eyes.  
“He said he wanted to protect me…,” Jinyoung said, when he had finished his food and it lay heavy in his stomach. Mark looked at him and chuckled a little.

“Why are you laughing?” he huffed.

“It’s just funny,” Mark said, “I get Yugyeom. There’s just something about you that always made me want to protect you, too.”

“Oh god, please spare me,” Jinyoung mumbled, but something inside of him felt warm at the thought.  
-

It happened on the next Friday after he told Mark everything.  
He was in school, his face buried in a book and waited for his psychology teacher to come into the class, when a dark shadow spread over his book pages.  
When he looked up he saw Jae standing in front of him. He sat down on Jinyoung’s desk, right on top of his notebooks.

“So got a new whore after all?“ he wanted to know and his friends threw flouting glances at each other.  
Jinyoung didn’t say a word.

“Was the red head not good enough anymore?”

“Shut up,” Jinyoung hissed.

“Oh… you’re not over him yet…,” he sighed, “poor thing, did he dump you or…?”

“Leave me alone, Jae,” Jinyoung said, while he skimmed through his book again, trying to find the page where he stopped.

“Y’know rumor has it that you paid that faggot to go out with you.” Jae stood up and leaned forwards, with his hands flat on Jinyoung’s desk.  
Jinyoung’s blood threatened to boil over.  
He stood up as well.

And then he took his book and closed it.  
And he smashed it down on Jae’s hand with all of his strength. Jae hissed in pain.  
But Jinyoung didn’t let go. He kept pressing the book down, putting all his body weight into the act and Jae cursed something, but Jinyoung didn’t listen.

He just looked him in the eyes and when he spoke, his voice barely sounded like his own. He sounded cold and intimidating; his voice was vibrating with hate. Jae let a pained groan slip his mouth and Jinyoung just squashed his hand more.

“Rumor has it that nobody in this whole fucking school likes you, Jae,” he cursed, “and you can call people names all you want to, nobody will ever like you, because you’re a pathetic asshole.”

Jae’s friends just stared at Jinyoung with wide eyes, but Jae yanked his hand back to himself and rubbed it.  
Jinyoung packed his stuff.

“I’m gonna fucking-“

“Whatever Jae, the prof is here, so you might wanna calm down a little.” Jinyoung nodded over to the door, where their psychology teacher stood and already had an eye on them.

Jinyoung excused himself, his bag under his arm and smiled at the prof, mumbling something about needing the toilet, before he left the class and only then he realized how his heart was rebelling in his chest.  
The adrenaline streamed through his veins and he had to take a minute to breathe properly.

He should have felt good, because he knew Jae was still sitting in there, rubbing his hand and none of his friends dared to say a word.  
But he felt like crying, because his bravery didn’t feel real, it didn’t feel like himself and it didn’t make anything easier.  
Jinyoung was sure of that.  
He was also sure that he was fucking doomed, the next time he would step into that classroom.  
-

It was still the same day, when Jinyoung got woken up in the middle of the night, a few sharp sounds tearing him out of his dream. He needed a moment to remember who he was, for his eyes to adjust to the dark and to make out what had woken him up.  
The next clattering sound startled him.  
He sat up in his bed, when he saw the pebbles hitting his window glass. It wasn’t aggressive, not like earlier that year when Jae and his people threw a rock through his window and broke the glass.  
But the pebbles hit his window with consistency.  
Jinyoung sighed.  
He should just ignore it, put in his earphones and go back to sleep, but there was an itch inside his mind that made him get up and walk over to the window. He lurked outside and saw Jae standing in his front yard.  
Everything in Jinyoung’s body told him to call his dad and get him thrown out, but the itch in his mind was eager to find out what he wanted.

So he opened the window.

“What the fuck, Jae?” He hissed, his voice barely loud enough for the other boy to hear.

“Yah, come down, nerd,” Jae hissed back, “I need to talk to you.”

Jinyoung wondered how he always ended up in situations like this, but something about Jae was pitiful, the way he stood there, obviously freezing in his jeans jacket and Jinyoung hated himself for feeling with him.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” He was about to close the window, when Jae’s voice stopped him again.

“Please,” he hissed and Jinyoung was sure it wasn’t a word he got over his lips often. You could hear the displeasure in his voice. “It’s important, Jinyoung.”

It was the use of his real name, not some slur or stupid nickname that made him indulge, made him throw his worries over board and made him think of how much Yugyeom would hate him for doing what he did.

And Jinyoung cursed himself again, when he looked down at Jae, standing in his front yard like a stranded boat and he closed the window.  
He slipped into one of his jeans, put on a black jacket over his placebo sleep shirt and then he left his room.

His posters judged him badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I....really don't know if I'm happy with this chapter, but I edited it so much already and.... this is probably the best I can do with this shitload of chlichés in this story... I'm sorry D:
> 
> and also.... idk.... I'm not sure if Jinyoung's decision really makes sense for anyone, I feel like it kinda... comes outta nowhere, because I wrote it so shitty URGH


	6. SIX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger warnings include:** homophobic language, alcohol, violence - tell me if I missed sth!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, I'm so sorry this took so long to update...I hope you like it anyway! D: ♥

_> The silence of the street lay like a blanket over them, like a suffocating but cold blanket that made it difficult to breathe.<_

 

Three minutes later he stood in his garden with Jae.  
  
“What the fuck do you want?” he said, without looking at Jae.  
Jinyoung lit a cigarette and started smoking it, while they walked off their property. The last thing he needed was his dad finding more reasons to get him a new bodyguard. He wouldn’t offer Jae a cigarette though, he wasn’t that easy.  
  
“I told you… just talking to you.”  
  
“Then talk.”  
  
“Listen… the things I said,” Jae huffed, “the things I did…”  
  
He didn’t keep talking and Jinyoung looked over to him, saw his struggle to get the words out and felt an uncomfortable wave of sympathy for the boy.  
  
“What I’m trying to say is, I shouldn’t have been like that…”  
  
“Did you get to that conclusion all by yourself?” Jinyoung said.  
  
“Listen, nerd, I’m trying to apologize here.”  
  
“Why would you…”  
  
“Y’know, you nearly breaking my hand made me think,” he said, “that maybe you’re not a faggot after all.”  
  
Jinyoung stopped walking.  
They had reached the end of the road he lived in, the streets were dark, the expensive cars the only thing around. When he wanted to turn around, Jae grabbed his wrist and Jinyoung stopped walking.  
  
“You think calling me a faggot will make me like you more?”  
  
“I don’t want you to like me,” Jae said and he didn’t look at Jinyoung anymore.  
  
 The expression on his face changed slowly. It changed from little beaten puppy to something else. Jinyoung could nearly watch the confidence in him grow and it made a shiver run down his spine.  
The grip on Jinyoung’s wrist tightened and before Jinyoung could do anything Jae had stolen his cigarette from between his lips and held it between his fingers. He inhaled so appreciatively and that’s when Jinyoung’s eyes followed his glance.  
  
Just a few feet away, appearing from behind the corner of his street, three shadows came closer and his heart started racing when he understood.  
He wanted to wriggle out of Jae’s grip, but that one had moved behind him and Jinyoung felt his arms closing around his neck, holding him in a headlock, a bit of cigarette ash raining down onto his neck.  
 Jinyoung groaned in pain.

He knew two of the boys from school, had never seen the third one, but it didn’t matter. He tried his hardest to free himself from Jae’s grip, clawing his fingers into his arm, but it was difficult to breathe, because Jae tightened his arm around him, until he barely got air into his lungs.  
  
“You showed me,” Jae hissed close to his ear, “that you’re really worth the effort.”  
  
When the boys stood around him, he knew it was time to scream.  
To scream and yell like he had never done before.  
 The streets were empty and quiet, but there were houses all around them- somebody had to hear him! But his throat didn’t cooperate, his stomach turned and he felt the humiliation in his bones.  
The shame held his voice hostage and Jae’s arm was pressed against his arteries.  
When one of the boys punched him in the gut, a stinging pain forced all the air out of him and he groaned. He let go off Jae’s arm and held his stomach instead.  
  
“Are you out of your mind?” he groaned, his voice barely there.  
  
Another punch and the sickness became worse than the pain. His gut felt like it filled with lava and he coughed and wriggled in Jae’s grip.  
He still had his eyes closed, when someone kicked against his shin and that’s when he screamed.  
It wasn’t planned- his voice just got pushed out of him.  
  
“Fuck,” he yelled, “stop!”  
  
But then there was Jae’s hand over his mouth and it smelled disgusting, like smoke and sweat and it made the sick feeling in his gut ten times worse. Jinyoung turned and tossed his head, trying to breathe, trying to get air into his lungs, but he only heard Jae’s voice.  
The fear took over his body now, trying to tell hi to get away from them and the shame made place until the very last inch of his body was filled with overwhelming fear. His heart thumped like crazy and he wriggled around in Jae’s headlock, punching around him, but never really hitting him enough.  
  
“You think you’re so clever,” Jae pressed the words out close to  his ear and Jinyoung felt little drops of spit in his face.  
He just kept wriggling and moving and he tried kicking backwards but it wasn’t that easy. Everything hurt.  
He lunged out to punch backwards another time, but then Jae’s hand left his mouth and when Jinyoung desperately tried to inhale air, a sharp pain met his face out of nowhere, making his sight go black.  
It felt like his face got torn apart and the pain spread through his whole head. His eyes were pounding and he stopped moving.  
Jinyoung groaned loudly in pain, but he couldn’t see anything.  
When he just wanted to reach out for his face, Jae’s hands were ripped off of him and he stumbled to the ground without the support.  
He still had his eyes closed, the burning pain overwhelming all of his sensations, the pounding in his face louder than the tsunami of thoughts in his head.  
  
He felt the ground underneath him, cold and slightly wet, little pebbles pressing into his flesh, where he steadied himself with his hands. He heard more hits and pushes and cursing and more groaning and he still too dizzy to wonder why Jae let go off him, until he heard a voice push through to his conscience.  
  
“You fucking bastards.”  
He knew that voice, it was familiar and so foreign at the same time.  
Yugyeom’s voice was cold and terrifying, it made Jinyoung’s stomach turn, made a cold shiver run through his whole body.  
When he opened his eyes, despite the flashy pain shooting through his face, he saw the two boys from school running down the street, cursing, leaving Jae behind.  
The third one still stood there, confused, looking around hectically and Jinyoung noticed a little trickle of blood coming out of his nose.

Then the boy started running, too.  
  
When Jinyoung looked to his side, he saw Yugyeom standing over Jae, pressing his torso down only with one heavy boot.  
  
“You and your friends will never,” he hissed, “lay a finger on him again!”  
  
Then Jinyoung watched how Yugyeom took his foot of him, just to kick him in the side, when Jae tried to sit up.  
Yugyeom obviously held back his strength, but Jae screeched in pain and fell back down.  
  
“Do you hear me?” Yugyeom’s voice got louder.  
 Jinyoung had never heard it this loud. It had never sounded this foreign, this cold and sharp.  
Another kick, this time into Jae’s guts. And the boy curled himself underneath Yugyeom.  
His breathing hard and heavy, his voice breaking.  
  
“Did you fucking hear me?”  
 Yugyeom squatted down and had Jae’s collar in his grip the next moment, pulling him up from the ground and looking at him with clenched teeth.  
“You won’t talk to him and you won’t bother him,” he spit the words out, then he raised his voice again, “or I’ll fuck you up.”  
  
“Okay,” Jae coughed out quickly and Yugyeom let go of his collar, let him fall down like a used tissue and stood up.  
When he turned his back on Jae, he looked over to Jinyoung for the first time, acknowledging his existence.  
But Jinyoung still watched Jae. The boy got up, needed a few tries, looked back at them and started stumbling away.  First slow and careful, rubbing his arm, then faster, until he was running in the direction the others had fled to.  
  
The silence of the street lay like a blanket over them, like a suffocating but cold blanket that made it difficult to breathe.

Yugyeom came closer, walking slow and steady, his expression changing slowly. The cold mask vanished from his face and made space for a pained grimace.  
  
“Fuck, Jinyoung…” His voice was soft again and a little shaky. He said Jinyoung’s name carefully, like he could break it if he spoke it too harsh. “Look at you.”  
  
Jinyoung’s heart was still racing and when he breathed in, the pain and pounding and the sickness came streaming back to him. His face hurt, his left side was pounding and stinging, but now he felt a bit of warm fluid dripping out of his nose as well.  
When it reached his lips, he could taste metal.  
He reached out to touch it and there was bright red blood on his hand, when he wiped his nose.  
Yugyeom squatted down in front of him, just looking at him and even though it hurt, Jinyoung could see clearly again.  
 He still felt sick, his heart was still hammering and when he looked at the blood on his hands, he saw that his fingers were shaking uncontrolled.  
  
“Can you stand up?” Yugyeom asked and he reached out for Jinyoung’s hand. That one took it, let him help him up to his knees first, then to his feet. He stood and it was okay, was manageable, even though his head hurt and his stomach was aching and churned up.  
He looked at Yugyeom again and then his brain started rattling, too.  
  
“How… did you know?” he breathed out and Yugyeom tried a little smile, but it made his face look like a grimace.

  
“Mark called me,” he said. “He saw Jae and the others near college at like… 9pm? And he was worried…So I got here.”

Jinyoung hummed. He made a mental note to thank Mark and to never tell him he fell for Jae’s little nice guy act.  
  
“C’mere.” Yugyeom turned around and presented his back to Jinyoung. “I’mma carry you.”  
  
  
It was only the way down the street, but it was nice to hug Yugyeom’s warm back, to let him do the walking, to feel the safety that he hadn’t felt in weeks. To be with him again, to smell his cheap cologne and to have his red hair right in front of his face.  
 Jinyoung resisted the urge to bury his fingers in it.  
  
“Does it hurt badly?” Yugyeom asked quietly, while he readjusted Jinyoung on his back, gripping his thighs harder.  
  
“Nah…,” Jinyoung mumbled, “I deserved this… on so many levels.”  
  
They were silent for another few steps. Jinyoung knew that they were thinking the same things, both avoiding talking about any of them.

It took them about four minutes to get down the street and back into Jinyoung’s front yard. Yugyeom let him off his back and looked at him.  
  
“Will you tell your dad about this?” he asked.  
  
“Don’t know…,” Jinyoung mumbled, while he quietly turned the keys in the lock.

When he opened the door and walked in, Yugyeom still stood outside. Jinyoung looked at him and then he nodded tiredly.  
  
“You don’t want to stay, do you?” he whispered.  
  
“Do you want me here?” Yugyeom asked back, looking down on his black boots.  
  
Jinyoung nodded and so Yugyeom followed him in.

-

Yugyeom sat on his bed, while Jinyoung took off his bled through placebo shirt and his jeans and he walked into the bathroom attached to his room and looked in the big mirror. The area around his eye was swollen and it had already turned a dark shade of purple. Jinyoung let his fingertips feel over it and jerked a little when the pain hit him.  
He sighed. How should he hide this from his dad?  
When he changed into a clean, black shirt, he saw more bruises on his side and stomach.  
 Just little ones- they’d vanish soon.  
  
When he had cleaned the dried blood of his lips and nose, he walked back into his room and Yugyeom was still sitting there in his black leather jacket, like he hadn’t moved an inch.  
  
“You didn’t tell me it was that bad,” Yugyeom mumbled.  
  
“What?”  
  
“You never told me they bullied you like this.” His voice was thin, the sadness vibrating in it.  
  
“I kinda provoked them.” Jinyoung sat down at Yugyeom’s side on the bed and started to rub his stomach.    
Yugyeom nodded.  
  
“Sir…,” he breathed the word out, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there earlier.”  
  
“Don’t call me that… you’re not working here anymore.”  
  
Yugyeom nodded and then he lifted his hand and he carefully touched the side of Jinyoung’s face, his thumb carefully stroking his cheek, just under the black eye.  
Jinyoung closed his eyes. It hurt a little, but it was so much more comforting and warm.  
  
“I missed you,” he heard his own tired voice say.  
  
“Really?” Yugyeom asked.  
When Jinyoung opened his eyes again, he looked up at Yugyeom, into his soft face, his red hair falling over his eyes a little bit.

“Yeah…” Jinyoung said, “a lot…”  
  
Then he leant forwards and wrapped his arms around Yugyeom’s neck. He pulled him into a warm hug, Yugyeom’s arms were like a protecting cage around his hurting body and little flashes of pain went through his stomach and his head, but he still pulled Yugyeom closer to himself.  
  
Jinyoung inhaled his aroma, breathed in the cologne, his sweat, the metal smell of his bleeding nose mixed into it.  
  
“I’m tired,” Jinyoung then mumbled, when he felt like he could breathe again. “Let’s sleep.”  
  
He lay down on the bed and pulled his covers up to his chin and there were a thousand different emotions acting up inside of him, when he watched Yugyeom getting out of his leather jacket and his jeans and climbing into the bed with him, in his boxers and a black shirt.  
Jinyoung cuddled himself close to him and Yugyeom’s arms were around him again like it was the most natural place for them to be.  
Then Yugyeom took Jinyoung’s hand and brought it up to his lips, planting tiny kisses on it.  
Jinyoung’s breathing calmed down, was heavy and slow, and a warm tingling went through his stomach.  
  
“Jinyoung,” Yugyeom said against the back of his hand. His name as soft and special as ever.  
  
“Mh?” Jinyoung hummed. He was so tired. His body was so heavy.  
  
“I’m so in love with you,” Yugyeom whispered.  
  
Jinyoung opened his eyes, his heart raced, the room was dead silent and Yugyeom looked back at him with his black deer eyes, their hands intertwining on their own.  
  
Jinyoung wanted to say something.  
 Anything.  
 But his pulse was so loud in his veins and his breath wasn’t coming.  
And then Yugyeom took his chance away, pressed his plump lips against Jinyoung’s.  
Stole a kiss, and another one and another one.  
His hand let go of Jinyoung’s and rested on his waist instead.  
  
They kissed in silence, cuddled close together, the blanket warm and comforting over them, their limps tangled up.  
And all of Jinyoung’s posters were long asleep and Jinyoung’s body was tired, but he didn’t want to stop kissing Yugyeom, wanted to tug on his lips forever, wanted to taste him forever, and wanted to tell him all of his secrets through his kiss.  
  
  
And to his surprise it was Yugyeom, who fell asleep first and it was Jinyoung whose heart didn’t let him join him, because it hammered in his chest. And he didn’t think that was possible, but Yugyeom’s features looked even softer, when he was far away in his dreams.  
  
“I’m in love with you, too,” Jinyoung whispered, carefully stroking the hair out of Yugyeom’s peaceful face.  


-

  
**A week later**

  
Jinyoung wasn’t used to meeting new people, he didn’t like it and thought people were overrated anyway.  
  
 But when Yugyeom told him he wanted to introduce him to the rest of his friends, he couldn’t really say no.  
 There was still the unspoken regret of everything he had done to Yugyeom, from treating him like a peasant and taking him for granted to getting him fired from his job with a blatant lie.  
 He hadn’t said sorry yet, didn’t really know how to get the word over his lips, so he wanted to show him he cared.  
Taking Yugyeom or the way he treated him for granted again was not an option for Jinyoung; that was the only thing he really knew.  
  
So it came that they were sitting in the old tram that should take them to their little house. Sometimes Jinyoung forgot that it wasn’t only his and Yugyeom’s little secret, forgot that he was the last one of all of them to find out about the ruin.  
  
Yugyeom looked at him from the side and Jinyoung looked outside the window.  
He wasn’t good at meeting new people. He was even worse at making people like him, but he really wanted Yugyeom’s friends to like him. What if they saw how unlikable he was and told Yugyeom the truth, destroyed his little idolized picture of Jinyoung?  
  
“Hey…,” Yugyeom’s voice tore him out of his thoughts and a warm hand wrapped itself around his. Jinyoung’s fingers jerked. But he took his hand, while a few butterflies woke up in his stomach.  
  
“Don’t worry too much,” Yugyeom said. “The stress really isn’t worth it, they’re chill.”

“I know…,” Jinyoung mumbled, “the problem is I’m not!”  
  
“I’m sure they’re gonna like you,” he smiled. “Maybe I told them one or two things about you.”  
  
“What?” Jinyoung jerked his head around and his foot jumped nervously.  
  
“Only good things, sir.” Yugyeom’s thumb rubbed little circles on the back of Jinyoung’s hand. Jinyoung was sure he would have kissed him if they were alone.  
  
“So you lied,” Jinyoung mumbled.  
  
“I didn’t,” Yugyeom rolled his eyes, “there’s many good things about you.”  
  
Yugyeom opened his mouth again but Jinyoung squeezed his hand in panic.  
  
“It’s okay,” he brought out quickly, “I believe you.”  
  
The last thing he needed was Yugyeom praising him in public.

-

  
When they arrived, it was already getting darker and Jackson and Bambam were busy trying to make a campfire in the middle of the stone circle.  
  
Jinyoung and Yugyeom brought the bottles of alcohol outside and placed the little music station on one of the stones.

Yugyeom didn’t lie.  
Bambam was the definition of easy going.  
With him and Jackson there was no need for small talk or any chance for awkward silences, because when they weren’t busy talking and laughing about silly things together they were bickering about the simplest of problems.  
That only changed, when first Youngjae and then Hyejin came through the overgrown garden. From then on Hyejin and Jackson were busy making out and Jinyoung couldn’t help but look over to them again and again.  
They were a pretty couple.  
 He also watched Youngjae, who was another friend of Yugyeom, and Bambam laughing together. And Jinyoung sat on Yugyeom’s side and he wondered if they looked more like Youngjae and Bambam or more like Hyejin and Jackson.  
Did they look like a couple?  
How much did Yugyeom’s friends know?  
  
“So are you guys a thing?”  
It was Youngjae who asked that exact question, after they all had a bit of alcohol in their blood and after the night had gotten so dark that the fire in their middle drew little shadows over their eyes.  
Youngjae had an excited spark in his eyes and Jinyoung wished he had waited with his question until Jinyoung had figured it out himself.  
His heart raced and his hands became sweaty. He looked over to Yugyeom, but that one was calm, despite the little blush on his cheeks.  
  
“I’d say I’m his, but I’m not sure if he’s mine.” Yugyeom smiled with rosy cheeks and when their eyes met, Jinyoung swore he melted a little. Maybe it was just the heat coming from the fire.

Jinyoung nodded awkwardly and Youngjae seemed happy enough with the answer.  
When Bambam claimed Youngjae’s attention again, Yugyeom looked at Jinyoung softly, as if to make sure he didn’t cross a line.  
Jinyoung just tried to breathe normally and opened another beer.  
  
When Hyejin and Jackson got bored of kissing or just figured it was politer to join the conversations, Hyejin pulled a huge bag of marshmallows out of her backpack and the boys cheered loudly.  
  
Jinyoung’s body finally relaxed a bit, maybe because of the booze, maybe because the flames of the campfire had something hypnotic to them and maybe just because Yugyeom’s presence felt like a shield again, like a safe haven. Like a generally calming aura that made it difficult to worry about anything in the world. Especially while they were in their favorite place on earth.  
  
It was so weird how normal it all felt, as if Jinyoung had always had friends, as if it wasn’t completely new for him to sit with people his age and to have fun talking to them.  
He made a mental note to invite Mark to join them the next time. He felt like Youngjae and him would get along.  
  
And Jinyoung didn’t talk much, but he caught himself smiling now and then and at some point he didn’t care about any of his worries anymore and he held Yugyeom’s hand and he laughed when Jackson said something ridiculous again and whenever Youngjae or Bambam awkwardly smiled at him, he felt a little less abnormal. They were anything but intimidating and Jinyoung was glad about that.  
He had enough of people who needed to look cool anyway.  
 And Yugyeom’s hand lay warm and soft and big in his and he was aware of his touch the whole time.  
  
At some point Yugyeom and Bambam danced to RnB music, their motions not as smooth as they could have been if they were sober and Bambam already wobbly on his feet. The others cheered them on and Jinyoung couldn’t take his eyes off Yugyeom dancing.  
He looked so mature, so at home with his friends and so comfortable in his skin.  
  
His dancing was so relaxed and carefree, but so powerful at the same time and again, there was a magnetic feeling. Jinyoung’s body ached for Yugyeom’s, but his mind forced him to stay where he was and watch him dance, so he wouldn’t ruin his aura.  
  
The first ones to leave were Jackson and Hyejin, hand in hand, not as drunk as the rest of them.  
But very obviously drunk in love.  
  
 “Wouldn’t it be fun to stay overnight again?” Bambam said after a while, but Yugyeom and Youngjae exchanged a few meaningful looks.  
  
“I think we should get going, Bam,” Youngjae hurried to say, “I’ll treat you to fast food if you want, I heard that prevents hangovers.”  
  
“You’d buy it?” Bambam’s eyes got wider.  
  
“Yeah,” Youngjae said and stood up from his stone. A little wobbly on his feet, just like Bambam.  
  
“Okay, but let’s have a sleepover some day!” Bambam grinned and Yugyeom chuckled on Jinyoung’s side.  
  
They said goodbye to them too and then they sat there in front of the campfire on their own, mostly in silence.  


 Yugyeom held a stick with a marshmallow above the flames and Jinyoung watched how it changed color.  
  
“I like them,” he said after a while, the alcohol hot in his body, the fire looking a bit blurry.  
  
“They like you, too,” Yugyeom smiled. “Wait until Hyejin brings her girls, then it’s a real party.”  
  
“Then I wanna bring Mark,” Jinyoung said.  
  
“Yeah.” Yugyeom nodded and took the marshmallow out of the flames. He blew on it a little.  
  
“Yugyeom…,” Jinyoung mumbled, “about what you said earlier…”  
  
“I know, I’m sorry… “  
  
 Yugyeom turned towards Jinyoung and he held a hand under the marshmallow and led it to Jinyoung’s mouth.  
Jinyoung nibbled on it carefully first, then he sucked it into his mouth and started chewing. It was so hot and sweet and his stomach was full of butterflies.  
  
“No, I’d like it,” Jinyoung mumbled with his mouth full. Then he swallowed it down. His face was burning in embarrassment, when he looked at Yugyeom again, “being your boyfriend I mean.”

“Really?” Yugyeom brought out and looked at him with big eyes.  
  
Jinyoung nodded and his heart tried to jump out of his body.  
It was a bit scary but it wasn’t as scary as being away from Yugyeom.  
  
And Yugyeom’s smile made him think that it could actually work out, that maybe they could find a way to make it work and that it was worth the try.  
  
And then Yugyeom kissed him again, like he always did when Jinyoung didn’t know what to say.  
He tasted like a mixture of bitter beer and sweet marshmallows and Jinyoung only stood up to sit back down in his lap, straddling his thighs and looking at him, his face still heated.

“Thank you,” Yugyeom mumbled between kisses, “I know this was hard for you today.”  
  
“It was nice,” Jinyoung said. Yugyeom looked up at him and his big hands lay on Jinyoung’s hips, the fire guttering in the background. His heart was about to explode.  
  
“Y’know I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again, right?” Yugyeom said and he looked at Jinyoung for a moment, before he started kissing his neck instead.  
Warmth spread in Jinyoung’s chest.  
  
“I know,” Jinyoung breathed out.  
He held onto Yugyeom’s shoulders a little tighter, while that one gently sucked on his soft skin.  
  
“Good.” Yugyeom grinned. “Because I’d fuck them up.”  
  
Jinyoung hummed, while Yugyeom pulled him a little closer to himself.  
Watching Yugyeom with his friends was incredible, but he also had wanted to touch him and kiss him all evening and now he finally could.  
And his need to get closer was more prominent than anything else now.  
Because after all Yugyeom still wanted to be with him and he wanted Jinyoung to be his and while Jinyoung didn’t understand completely, he wanted nothing more than that.  
To be with him.  
To be his.  
 All of that.  
  
Yugyeom’s hands slipped under Jinyoung’s shirt innocently, the air on his skin fresh, but Yugyeom’s hands warm.  
The wind had merci that day, it was barely a breeze.  
Jinyoung drew little circles with his hips and he could feel Yugyeom getting harder underneath him.  
  
“I’m…” Jinyoung took a deep breath and let it go. He stopped Yugyeom’s hands on his skin for a moment and looked down at him. Yugyeom just smiled patiently.  
  
“I’m sorry…”  
  
“I know,” Yugyeom said.  
  
“No, I mean it,” Jinyoung avoided his eyes. “I’m new to all of this, but I didn’t want to hurt you.”  
  
Yugyeom buried his face in the nape of Jinyoung’s neck again, trailing little kisses over his skin.  
  
“You’re not as bad as you think, sir,” he breathed against his skin.  
Jinyoung wanted to say something, but his voice got overpowered by Yugyeom’s breath on his skin and his words lingering in the air.  
  
“What is it with that word,” Jinyoung brought out, a tingly sensation in his stomach.  
  
“I’ve been taught to say it, sir,” Yugyeom’s hands started to move again, felt every bit of Jinyoung’s stomach, his sides, his whole torso, to the small of his back. Then he tugged on his shirt and Jinyoung pulled it over his head automatically.  
The wind felt a little fresh on his skin, but Yugyeom’s body heat was all he could concentrate on.  
  
“Yeah, but…” Jinyoung let Yugyeom kiss down his collarbones and he shifted around on his lap a little, “why do you like it so much?”  
  
Yugyeom chuckled and Jinyoung felt it on his skin.  
  
“I don’t know, it’s just that you’re my sir and I love you,” he said. “Plus it’s kinda hot.”  
  
Jinyoung’s heart thumped faster. He would have thought the words left Yugyeom’s lips easily or mindlessly, but his pink cheeks told Jinyoung that he was aware of their weight.  
  
“Do you love me, too?” Yugyeom asked. His voice quiet, but firm, while he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer to himself.  
  
Jinyoung closed his eyes and listened to the crackling of the campfire behind them and then he breathed in deeply.

“I do,” he whispered. “I’m just really bad at this.”  
  
“Again,” Yugyeom said, the flames of the fire reflecting in his eyes in a fiery play, “you’re not that bad.”  
  
His hands found their way to Jinyoung’s waistband, playing around with his belt mindlessly, while he didn’t stop looking at him.  
Now Jinyoung felt the flames inside of him too and he might as well just have exploded from how right it felt the way it was, at least in that moment, in their favorite place on earth in this warm night with the little ruin as their only companion.  
This time it was Jinyoung who went for Yugyeom’s neck, sucking and nibbling on it, rolling his hips a little harder, drawing secretive patterns on Yugyeom’s tense skinny jeans.  
  
“Let’s go inside,” he took his time sucking a little mark onto Yugyeom’s soft skin, close to his jaw, while Yugyeom’s hands held Jinyoung’s hips a little tighter, “take good care of me, Yugyeommie.”

“Aye aye, sir,” Yugyeom smiled.

  
It wasn’t anything like their first time having sex in the ruin.  
They had more experience since then, had explored each other, and had learned what they liked and what they didn’t, but it nearly felt like doing it for the first time.  
They talked a little more, smiled a little softer, touched each other a little less awkwardly, but the couch made the same whiny noises, like it always did.  
  
Jinyoung sat in Yugyeom’s lap once again, controlling the pace with which he lifted his hips and let them fall down again to get the most friction out of it.  
To make Yugyeom feel good, letting him slide in and out of him, but also teasing him with how slow he moved.  
But he didn’t seem to mind much. Yugyeom just moaned in pleasure whenever he was buried deepest in him.  
Jinyoung clenched around him, when Yugyeom sucked on his nipple and let his tongue swirl around it, his way of teasing.  
By now he knew how weak Jinyoung got when he played with his nipples, he knew how weak he was for Yugyeom’s mouth in general and how to educe the sweetest noises out of him.  
  
 And Jinyoung loved riding Yugyeom like this.  
There was just something about that position; something so intimate and warm and protective. Yugyeom wrapped his arms like wings around him once again, while he kissed his neck, his collarbones and moaned against his skin. As if he wanted to taste every last bit of Jinyoung’s skin, it reminded him of their first times, when they’d been all nervous and careful. Now they knew where to touch and how, but their fingers were still careful, just in a different way.  
As if their fingers had learned exactly how precious what they’re touching was.  
Jinyoung just wanted to be connected like this forever, wanted to lose his thoughts in the heat between them and the tickling pleasure in his body, wanted to at least try to be one with Yugyeom for a while.  
  
Their clothes lay in a bundle on the dirty floor, but it didn’t matter, because they were long forgotten and Jinyoung would never get tired of being skin to skin with Yugyeom, especially when the slight breeze came through the window and tickled them. The plants didn’t mind, they had their water and the boys were in their own little bubble anyway.  
  
Feeling Yugyeom’s every muscle as he moved and feeling his hot skin rub against Jinyoung’s; it was nearly too much.  
Jinyoung let his head fall back slightly, when Yugyeom wrapped his fingers around his shaft and his thumb roll over his tip, to add to the sensations. Going slow wasn’t only torture for Yugyeom after all; Jinyoung was dripping precum and holding on to his senses with everything he got.  
  
“Fuck,” Jinyoung moaned.

“Tell me what you want, sir,” Yugyeom murmured, when Jinyoung let go a little and moaned more carelessly.  
He sped up a bit and his thighs started aching already, but he wanted to stay like this a little longer, riding Yugyeom and making sweet waves of pleasure roll through his stomach, through his body, tickling all his senses.  
  
“Say it again,” Jinyoung breathed out.  
  
“What do you mean, sir?” Yugyeom looked at him innocently, his fingertips teasing Jinyoung’s dick, just a barely there touch, making his muscles jerk.  
  
“Tell me you love me, Yugyeommie,” Jinyoung said, his words barely more than a whimper falling of his lips, “and I need it harder.”  
  
“Yeah,” Yugyeom agreed, “yeah, I can do that...”

He wrapped his arms around Jinyoung and rolled them both around, letting Jinyoung fall onto the couch and hovering over him the next second.  
Jinyoung looked up at him and his heart went crazy. Sometimes he forgot how strong his boy was and in moments like this, when Yugyeom manhandled him in the sweetest way possible, it reminded him how safe he was in his arms.  
  
“I love you so much, Jinyoung,” Yugyeom said, while he leant down over him and placed his hands on both sides of Jinyoung’s head, making the couch give in under them. The use of his name sent shivers through Jinyoung’s body and just added to his arousal, making his dick twitch.  
He lay there, hard and desperate for a moment, while Yugyeom deemed it more important to place little wet kisses on his neck and to nibble on his earlobe and Jinyoung could just moan weakly.  
  
“Baby…” he whined, “please...”  
Both words slipped his tongue without his permission and he felt the blood stream into his head.  
  
Yugyeom just hummed and kissed his way over his jaw down to Jinyoung’s lips, licking into his mouth teasingly and it was nearly embarrassing how eagerly Jinyoung kissed back, sucking on Yugyeom’s tongue and everything in reach.  
  
“Okay,” Yugyeom smiled and plastered a few last pecks onto the edge of his mouth.  
Then he knelt up and readjusted himself, making sure the condom was in place, before he grabbed Jinyoung’s thighs and gently pulled him close to himself, placing his hips between them.

Jinyoung closed his eyes when Yugyeom slid back into him and he moaned in satisfaction, when he was finally filled up again, reaching down to touch himself, while Yugyeom took up a quick pace.  
  
“Yeah, perfect baby,” Jinyoung heard himself panting, his heavy head fallen aback onto the armrest, “just like that.”

Watching Yugyeom’s pelvis move, watching his torso jerk and his muscles dance would never get old.  
Yugyeom held Jinyoung’s thighs up so easily, but Jinyoung wrapped them around his waist, pulling Yugyeom closer.  
Jinyoung watched through half lidded eyes, how Yugyeom licked his lips, while thrusting into him harder and before he could start to care, Jinyoung panted his name, sounding embarrassingly desperate while jerking himself off.  
  
“You are beautiful, sir, “Yugyeom breathed out, “like this, all worked up for me.”  
  
“Don’t get cheesy.” Jinyoung smiled up, but it was washed out of his face, when Yugyeom pushed hard into him, right against his sweet spot. He closed his eyes and moaned out loud, arching his back off the couch. If this had been about control, Jinyoung didn’t even want to have it anymore.  
  
“Ah, I’m not gonna last long…” he panted.

“Me neither,” Yugyeom hummed and Jinyoung watched his soft, red hair fall into his face and he would’ve reached out to brush them away, but he already had his arms wrapped around Yugyeom’s back to pull him down and into another deep kiss.  
He would never have admitted it, but he needed him as close as possible when he came and kissing Yugyeom while they were both so close to their high was the best thing in the world.  
And when the waves of pleasure rolled over him their tongues played around hotly and Jinyoung clawed his fingers into Yugyeom’s back, feeling his sweaty body under them.  
Jinyoung came with a long drawn moan and a bunch of curses, while spurts of white spluttered over his torso and the pleasure made him shiver.  
Yugyeom came shortly after, while Jinyoung was still riding out his high and he watched his face screw up in a grimace of pleasure and then he finally found the time to stroke the strand of hair out of Yugyeom’s face, still panting heavily, while they looked at each other.  
  
“Oh Jesus…” Yugyeom brought out, when he carefully slid out of Jinyoung, and carefully sat down between his legs. “I love you.”  
  
“Me or Jesus?” Jinyoung smiled weakly.  
  
“You, Jinyoung!” He rolled his eyes. Then he got rid of the condom and collapsed back into the couch, which whined dramatically.  
  
“We’re gonna ruin this thing some day,” Jinyoung said with a raised eyebrow, looking at the sad excuse of a sofa beneath him.  
He sat up and leant back next to Yugyeom, but his body was still shaky and he still tried to catch his breath.

“If Jackson and Hyejin don’t ruin it before us…”  
  
“Urgh,” Jinyoung screwed up his face, “right…”  
  
“I wanted to talk to you about that!” Yugyeom then said and turned around on the couch excitedly, sitting with crossed legs and looking at Jinyoung with big eyes.  
“I think we should put more work into this…” he waved around the little ruin vaguely.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean…we should get some wood and build a proper table… and maybe a drawer or a bookshelf… make it more comfortable?!”  
  
Jinyoung watched his eyes lighting up and the view was straight up adorable.  
Yugyeom sitting there butt naked on that little old couch and looking around for ideas. Jinyoung couldn’t help the smile that took over his face.  
  
“Do you think there’s something like solar-driven fridges?!” he asked. “It would be amazing to have cold beer for a change… and a grill or something!”  
  
Jinyoung just watched him and then he leaned onto his shoulder, not caring about the layer of sweat on their bodies, just happy to have someone to support his weight.  
  
“What do you say, would you help us?” Yugyeom wrapped his arm around Jinyoung and pulled him closer.  
  
“I’d love to!” Jinyoung nodded.  
  
Yugyeom smiled happily and pressed a long kiss onto his hair and took one of Jinyoung’s hands, just to play with his fingers and draw little patterns onto his skin.  
And it felt like all the plants around them and the ghosts inside of the old walls gave them their silent okay to truly make this place their own.  
  
And how could Jinyoung let a second chance like this go?  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had the whole thing written but then I got stuck on the end-scene.... I'm still not sure about this last chapter at all but oh well...  
> So this is the most cliché ending to the most chliché fanfic out there :P  
> Thank you for reading ♥

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you liked it at least a little bit! :o)


End file.
